Doom and Gloom
by badwolfbay99
Summary: There is a new global superpower rising from the shadows and threatening anyone with enhanced abilities. Will the Avengers be able to stop them and at what cost?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own _Nothing_.**

**Okay so I am not a frequent writer but the idea for this story has been hounding me for so long and I needed to get it done. It's kind of based as it infinity was doesn't happen but I suppose it can be considered as an AU before infinity war. So yeah hope you enjoy! :D**

* * *

In the sticky, humid climate of this part of the world, it wasn't unusual to see old buildings run down and out of use. It took a lot of work and money to renovate such places so that they were livable by modern standards, air conditioning and electrical wiring, for example. For those with enough money to spare, it was easier to build something from scratch rather than renovate an unimpressive, stone relic. That's why abandoned buildings were common. That's why it was the perfect cover.

In the middle of a barren, scorched meadow far from any civilisation, a building like this stood. It was an old stone factory from the days of harvesting crops, but beneath there lay hidden tunnels and rooms, used in the past for secrecy and protection from high government powers. Now they were used for a much different purpose.

Inside Natasha Romanoff stood braced against a crumbling stone wall. Her hair was smoothed back into a small ponytail and as she moved it caught the loose pieces of stone, letting them tumble silently to the floor, leaving a trail beneath her. She tucked a loose red strand behind her ear and around her comms set, causing the light grey sediments collecting on her shoulder to slide off the black leather.

The tip that led them here was long in the making. They had been tracking rogue divisions of Hydra that had risen in the recent absence of the Avengers, it was a small and unrewarding goose chase for the most part. No divisions they found made it past a few remaining soldiers banding together and speaking hate of enemies without much action or plans of defeating them. It was a testament to their hard work from the earlier years. One that Steve greatly appreciated.

Though Tony wasn't necessarily aware of Natasha's contact with Rogers. She wasn't doing a great deal to hide it. After all, she made it very clear she wasn't picking sides. They were lucky that Hydra posed no great threat for now. There weren't many Avengers left.

The Russian spy collected her thoughts and directed them back to the mission. Silently, she attempted to brush away some of the dust turning her uniform ashen grey. "This isn't a fashion contest Romanoff, and if it was I'd be winning." A voice whispered into the comms.

She rolled her eyes at her partner, standing with his armoured back against the wall on the other side of the opening to the room. His bright suit was like sneaking a flashing sign into their stealth operation.

"At least I blend in, also I can hear your AC/DC from here, Stark." She could just make it out over the soft hum of activity in the room down the corridor. Abruptly the faint music stopped. "Let's get this over with."

"Come on Romanoff! It's not often we work a case together." Despite the mask, she could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Hmmm," a smile tugged at her lips, "maybe there's a reason for that."

She moved almost like fluid, no action too jerky as to draw the attention of any person who happened to be passing. Keeping close to the wall she reached the end of the corridor, peering quickly around the bend to check for incoming. It was all clear. "Think you can keep up?"

He huffed into his armour. Striding down the length of the corridor with a clumsy arrogance. "Remember, you're the one that needed me." The source of noise they were following grew louder and as they rounded the corner. They were right by the entrance.

"'Need' is a strong word."

With that, she strode around the doorframe with confidence, wrists humming with blue light, she had taken down five men within seconds. They were wearing a uniform she didn't recognise, not the Hydra uniforms they were expecting. The men were easy enough to overcome, none were especially skilled. By the time Stark stumbled in, another four were out for the count.

The room was filled with computers and operating systems. It was the control room of the base. Thick wires snaked their way around the desks, linking up to a great server that stood taller than Stark himself at the end of the room.

Tony walked with purpose to the main computer, leaving the Black Widow to do her job while he did his. On his faceplate, FRIDAY translated the language on the operating system as he typed away, hacking through the firewalls.

On his left one of the soldiers unleashed a battle cry and charged with all his might towards Iron-man but Tony lazily lifted his hand and blasted him with a taser and he fell to the floor instantly. "Missed one." He mumbled into the comms as he continued typing.

"Sorry!" The superspy called from across the room. She was piling the soldiers over to one side, effortlessly incapacitating them.

Another approached Tony from the front but before he could do anything a blue shot fired from behind him and the man fell to his knees jiggling from the electricity. Stark smirked beneath his mask. "Mind the equipment." He called.

The tech was pretty impressive…. It contrasted with the run-down building that it was sitting in, meaning the person funding it had a lot of money and a lot of things he wanted to hide. Well too bad for him. His finger morphed into a USB and he gleefully slid it into the port near the computer, the download starting almost immediately.

"Tony, might wanna speed things along." Natasha was stood at the other doorway across the room listening to the angry shouts and stomping boots approaching. "Unless you wanna give me a hand?" She swaggered away from the big stone arch, gesturing loosely towards it.

"Oh, so you do need my help?" He put his free arm to his chest, "I'm touched." He then fired up the gauntlet, pointing it in that direction. A whine echoed in the small room and suddenly where there was once a doorway, there was only rubble. "What's that? Oh your very welcome." He was using his most innocent voice which would infuriate most but caused only a smirk from Romanoff.

"Don't push it, Tony."

"Yes, ma'am."

He began flicking through the files as the content downloaded. Various schematics of guns and tanks and aircrafts whizzed over the screen. "Weapons, Weapons, weapons, oh look, more weapons! You guys like your weapons don't you." Some murmurs came from a few of the soldiers still awake as they sat against the wall under Natasha's unforgiving watch.

The files here were extensive. They covered all kinds of areas from what he could tell. Biology, chemistry, psychology, … The list was endless. What had originally started as a small recon mission, was now an insight into a new superpowered, shady research and weapons group. Stark shuddered at the thought of another Hydra on the loose. He briefly caught eyes with his teammate. She realised the same thing.

They both turned briefly to the pile of rubble where they heard the soldiers digging through the wreckage, their shouts muffled by the rock. Stark swallowed thickly. They had to wait for the download and due to the vastness of the systems, it was gonna take a while.

He drew his attention back to the computer, flicking once more through the files. After a few minutes, he came across a juicy folder in a deeper section of the system. Each file within it was filled with documents under names 'Subject 14' or 'Subject 09' etc. He opened multiple files onto the screens and began flicking through them, his heartbeat increasing with each one. "Widow, can I borrow you a sec?"

She gave a fierce warning look to the few soldiers awake before walking over "What is it?" She furrowed her brow. "Are they case files?"

"Yep." Tony didn't keep the grimace out of his voice. "They are case files on enhanced humans. There are ones from all around the world, even some we don't know about."

"There's a lot of people we _do_ know on this list." She stated, her voice emotionless.

"Lost visual of a few we were watching over the past few weeks and…" He typed quickly and then pressed enter bringing up their case files on the screen, "They all have little x's in the corner." He pointed out the small stamp, anger flowing through him.

They weren't high priority cases. Sure he told his informants to keep him notified if they reappeared but until now he didn't consider it to be anything more sinister. Until now Tony wasn't even sure the subjects were enhanced. Some cases he built were around rumours about teenagers not even founded, primarily based on gossip and the key phase of 'freak'. Kids were smart and often got subconscious gut feelings about people who were different. Having said that, this didn't mean he would send the Avengers best after them if they went missing for a few days. But now he couldn't help the anger he felt for not looking into it deeper.

Suddenly there was loud hum and all the lights in the room went out, the computers included. A small jolt of electricity zoomed up Tony's USB and into his gauntlet and he gave a barely audible grunt as he received a light shock. In the weak glow of his suit, he could see his once shiny USB drive now black and mangled and he couldn't contain his sigh. "Damn they fried it. Must have caught on."

"Okay, Tony lets make a move before they block our exit. This is not one we wanna fight our way out of." She gestured grimly to the sound of the soldiers blocked from view. They were a lot more outnumbered than they expected to be.

Just then a soldier leapt from the floor and with a battle cry and charged towards the super spy, who stood unimpressed in his path. She waited until he was close then fired a bright blue taser from her wrist, sidestepping out the way as he collapsed to the floor in a heap of spasms and jerks. Natasha shrugged and gesture to the door.

"Let's head out." Tony nodded. "I've got some phone calls to make."

* * *

Peter was bored. So unbelievably bored. The combination of this and the fact that he was out on patrol until 4 am the night before meant that he stood no chance of staying awake as his teacher rambled on about the history of America. Especially with Mr Brown, a boring name for a boring guy who taught a boring subject, in a boring way.

In another lesson he might have been worried about being told off for sleeping, maybe even getting detention, but not in his classes. Mr Down, as he was often called, could not have made it more obvious how little he wanted to be teaching and the little care he had for his students or how they behaved. Probably because he was teaching history in a science-oriented school, meaning he had the least pay of all his colleagues. Something that he was frequently reminded of.

"See you next week." The teacher droned, slouching quickly out the door, avoiding any questions his eager enthusiasts might have.

Ned gave Peter a sharp nudge. "Class is over dude."

Peter raised his head groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He yawned, sluggishly packing his things into his bag ready to go to lunch.

"They released a new news report!" Ned thrust his phone screen into Peter's face. The article read 'Spiderman saves residents of burning apartment block' and showed a blurred picture of the blaze. "It says there were no casualties and you saved like 20 people!" His whisper was strained by his excitement.

Peter chuckled softly. "Yeh I know, Ned, I was there."

"What was it like? Did the suit filter the smoke? I guess it didn't otherwise you wouldn't have been coughing this morning. Wait do you even get sick any more?."

Peter paused trying to recall the last time he was sick. "No… I guess my immune system is stronger?" He couldn't help but smirk as his friend's awed look. "Yeh I might try and do something about the suit, a tighter knit material would block out the majority of the smoke but it might restrict some movement."

"Wow." Ned gaped. "Do you think Mr Stark would let you make improvements to your suit? That would be awesome, you'll have to do test runs though. Maybe he'd let you use his lab!"

Peter straightened himself. "Yeh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"That is so cool." Ned shook his head in disbelief before suddenly remembering what started their conversation. "Wait so if you didn't have any filtering for the smoke that must have been hard! How long did it take you to get the people out? Did you take more than one at a time?"

Ned didn't drop the subject even as they walked to the cafeteria. His questions came wave after wave and at some point, Peter considered just giving him the tape from the suit, but that way he couldn't sugar coat the scary bits. His friend was disappointed when the arrival of MJ cut his interrogation short, giving Peter some form of temporary relief. Sometimes he liked to pretend he was a normal kid even if just for a little bit.

He enjoyed the fact that MJ was oblivious to his nightly activities, though he found it weird she hadn't figured it out, the amount she stalks him. She was an interesting addition to the duo but he wouldn't say that they had become close. More of an occasional add-on if she decided to sit with them. When she did join them she wouldn't say much, the occasional snarky comment maybe, but most of the time she would be sketching or reading a book.

Her presence did mean that Ned and Peter had to talk about normal things, something Peter was starting to miss. He was really glad he turned down Tony Stark's offer, it was probably for the best he wasn't an Avenger. For the time being anyway.

They were halfway through complaining about the latest Spanish project when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Happy was calling. He couldn't deny the rush of excitement.

"Um, I, uh, have to go. It's a call about the, um, Stark Internship thing, its-" MJ lifted her gaze from her sketch pad, narrowing her eyes. He tried to gather his words. "I can't Ignore this." He mouthed 'sorry' as he half ran out of the hall.

Ned had begun to rise from his seat, desperate to follow, but under MJ's watch, he quickly sat back down. "What you sketching?." He attempted to look as innocent as possible despite his blatant attempt at a distraction.

Rather than replying she furrowed her eyebrows and then slowly began to carry on with her sketch.

Ned nodded his head, looking down at his packed lunch. "Cool." He muttered, barely audible, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

Peter speed walked his phone down a few corridors until he was well out of earshot of the cafeteria. It wasn't often that Happy returned his calls, never mind calling Peter himself, this meant that the call was either something he had done wrong (unlikely) or something he had been hoping for for a while. A mission.

He took one last breath trying to act calm as he excitedly answered the phone. "Hey Hap, what up?" His face dropped as the words left his mouth. 'What up? You've never said that in your life!'. He clutched at the air, pressing his knuckle to his forehead in a dramatic display of frustration at himself.

There was a pause on the other end. "I'm gonna pick you up from school today, okay kid?"

"Oh yeah sure, but um actually, Happy, I was going over to Ned's-"

"Well your not anymore, I'll see you after school." He hung up.

Peter looked down at his phone as if expecting it to give him some kind of answers. Peter's heart was racing. He had so many questions but no way of answering them. He was tempted to phone Happy back but he knew he wouldn't answer. Hesitantly he put away his phone and returned to his friends.

Ned's disappointment that Peter wasn't coming over to continue their Star Wars marathon was drowned by the excitement at the abrupt phone call. He spent the rest of the day creating theories about the reason for the after-school meeting. Everything from 'missing hanging out with Spiderman' to end of the world scenarios.

At first, Peter felt his own anxiety gnawing at his mind but the more outlandish theories Ned had, the more he felt at ease. The day seemed to go quickly and suddenly Peter was walking down the school steps after the final bell.

"Hey Peter, you listening?" Ned placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "We can meet up tomorrow and continue our marathon." Ned gave him a smile of encouragement as he turned on his way back home. Peter smiled; if he was going to Ned's tomorrow he was sure they wouldn't even get round to watching the films.

Happy was hard to miss. His big, black four-by-four was not uncommon amongst the cars outside, but the former bodyguard was stood menacingly leaning against it, waiting for Peter's arrival. He opened the door for Peter when he got close and they both wordlessly got in the car.

They drove in silence for the first few minutes. That was until Peter could no longer distil his nervous energy. "Hey, Happy, am I in trouble?"

"No, I don't think so, kid. Tony just wants to talk to you."

"But do you know what it's about?" Peter pushed causing Happy to give an exasperated sigh.

"I'm not sure, Tony wants you to stay at the tower for a bit, you can grab some stuff before we head off." As he finished his sentence they pulled up outside Peter's building.

The teen hesitated. This whole thing wasn't giving him the excited vibes from a mission, but instead making his stomach twist with anxiety. He tried to suppress his nervousness and quickly ducked inside his house. His mind was buzzing with so many questions, the journey up the stairs to his door all merged into a single motion and suddenly he was face to face with his aunt.

"Peter, the most amazingly weird thing happened at work today." She kissed him on the forehead and ran off into her room.

"I thought you weren't meant to work until tonight." He half-heartedly followed her stopping a few meters from her door. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he grabbed for it absentmindedly, still a bit dazed.

"Yeh I wasn't, one of the other nurses messaged me and asked if I wanted to switch, never said why. I wasn't going to but-" Aunt May's voice drifted into the background as he looked at his phone. It was just Ned asking what was happening. The truth was he didn't know. He considered going down now and asking Happy but decided against.

_Not sure but Mr Stark wants to see me. I have to grab overnight things. Not sure if I'll be in school tomorrow._

He tried to keep only to the facts, trying not to hint at his bad gut feeling.

Ned replied almost instantly. _No way!? That's so cool!_ Then the gasping emoji. _Keep me updated!_

His Aunt's voice tuned back into his focus."That would involve being away for the next two weeks and I can't just leave you to fend for yourself."

"Sorry, what?" Peter came now to his Aunt's door and saw she was hurriedly packing.

His Aunt looked down at her nephew's phone which he held in his hand and back up to him, her eyebrows lifted. "Not listening, huh?"

"Sorry." Peter smiled innocently.

"One of the old ladies I was treating today, she runs a private cruise liner, there was a temporary nurse position to fill on her cruise ship for the next two weeks. I wouldn't normally say yes, but she made it sound so amazing. She said, for the most part, I would be like a passenger on the ship, all the food provided and everything! Plus the pay would really help us out." She skimmed quickly over the last point sending a sideways look at Peter, a crooked little smile she gave him when she was upset about something but doing her best to reassure him. Like, for example, their recent struggles with paying rent. "But I need someone who can look after you first. Any preferences?"

Peter couldn't believe his luck. "Actually, Mr Stark wanted me to stay over at his for a couple of weeks." As he said it the pieces fell into place and the look on May's face showed she figured out the same.

"Oh hell no."

"Aunt May-"

She threw down the jumper she was in the process of folding. "I knew this was too good to be true. He set this up to get rid of me! There is no way I'm going and leaving you in the hands of Tony Stark. He is immature, irresponsible and in no fit state to look after a child. Never mind where he lives, you won't be safe at the Avengers 'secret headquarters' or wherever the hell he runs off to. I bet dangerous things happen there all the time. Don't you roll your eyes at me." She placed her hands on her hips. "We do not need his charity. Who does he think he is throwing money at us. We are coping fine on our own. If we want to go on a cruise we can, I'll just get another job, save up some money."

"You can't get another job."

"Watch me." She was taking deep breaths, her eyes glistening with the liquid that had swelled over them. She painfully swallowed and she desperately tried to keep her composure.

Though he tried to hide it, Peter was just as pissed. Though he idolised Tony, he could be completely oblivious sometimes. Like his Aunt said they weren't a charity case, the last thing Peter wanted was to be taken pity of by his mentor. Peter scrunched his nose at the thought. However Peter was rational, they were struggling. Tony was trying to help, despite his own ulterior motives, the gesture was coming from a good place. Plus at the end of the day, it was a job which was a lot easier to accept than a handout.

Peter sighed. "I want to got stay with Mr Stark." He stated it plainly and without room for argument. "The chance to work with him is an amazing opportunity."

She made a sound between an exasperated moan and a sigh.

"I think you should go on the cruise. Knowing Mr Stark he will probably have made it practically a holiday for you and you deserve it. You work so hard."

"We don't need his charity." She repeated through gritted teeth.

"Don't bite your nose off to spite your face."

With that May felt all her tension slip away. She laughed despite herself, tears brimming on her eyelashes. She flopped down on the bed, picked up her previously discarded jumper and folding it again. "You know, you can't keep quoting Ben to get your own way." Her laugh wavered.

Peter chuckled but a lump was forming in his throat. He went and sat on the bed next to her. She wrapped her arm around him and pulled him in, giving him a tight squeeze.

"I don't know what he'd think of all this you know." She smiled, resting her head against Peter's. "The superheroes, fighting bad guys, going to work in high tech labs."

Peter laughed softly. "He'd be so jealous I met Captain America."

She laughed with him. "He would, he loved him." She fiddled with her jumper in her other hand, rubbing it softly between her fingertips. "Your dad loved Captain America as well, he and Ben collected all the cards when they were little."

Peter's chest clenched. Mentions of his father were few and far between and he never quite knew how to react. He was so young when his parents died that, if he tried, he struggled to picture them. In fact, he often found them replaced with May and Ben. Sometimes he even forgot he was an orphan.

The teen and his guardian sat together for a while. Comfortable in their own thoughts.

When they eventually moved it was prompted by the buzz of Peter's phone, a reminder that Happy was still waiting downstairs. May sighed lightly, a smile fixed on her face, and helped Peter with his bag. They walked to the car together and said their goodbyes. It was going to be a strange couple of weeks.

* * *

Elsewhere there was a small town that buzzed with the low hum of life. Happy neighbours waving at each other as they went about their business, smiles beaming. Across the street, two children squealed and giggled at their bouncing golden retriever as he ran through the streams of water raining down onto the lawn from the sprinklers. Their mother watched them as she gardened in her pastel pink polo shirt. A man with a conservative haircut and a beige, knitted cardigan was cleaning his people-carrier, whistling merrily to himself as he scrubbed. Next door to them an elderly couple sat on a swinging porch chair sharing a laugh at the children and talking softly to each other. This was the perfect neighbourhood.

"Canada huh?" Two men were sat on deck chairs on the front porch of a big wooden lined house. They sat, beer in hand, watching the world go by, small smiles playing wistfully on their features. "Never thought we'd end up here." There was a playful bitterness in his words.

The other man laughed lightly but made no comment, only taking a swig of his beer. He watched the streets activities with a wistful smile. This was once a life he wanted for himself. A dream he had now put behind him.

The men had been sat in a comfortable silence for a while now but it was broken by Bucky's fidgeting. "You can't seriously like it here, Steve." He huffed lightly. "It's like we walked into a cartoon. Do you hear birds chirping?."

"Bucky." Steve chided.

"I can hear birds." He mumbled and took a swig of his beer.

A few more moments passed but they felt heavier than before. Bucky barely took time to stop and smell the roses, he was clearly struggling with it. The soldier began tapping his metal finger against the wooden chair. The rhythmic beat was harsh against the smooth flow of sound from the neighbourhood and his friend furrowed his eyebrows.

"We're just waiting for Sam to get back." Steve sighed. "He shouldn't be too long he's already been a gone a couple of hours."

"Well, I don't see why he couldn't see the relatives without our help," Bucky grumbled.

He wasn't used to this kind of pace. A snail's pace that is. Even when he was in Wakanda he found ways of keeping busy. Keeping his mind clear. Sitting still was… suffocating, in a way.

That's not saying he couldn't take time to relax once in a while. In the village where he stayed, a few times one of T'challa's friends, Nakia, would bring a tablet for the children so they could watch kids films. They loved it and they loved her. Not that he would admit it but it was some of his fondest memories sitting with the children as they stared in wonderment at the fairytales on the screen.

However that didn't mean he wanted to be a part of those fairytales and here, now, this was suffocating.

He knew why they were here though. Sam received a weird letter from his Great Aunt 'something or other' but it was out of the blue, rushed. It asked for an urgent visit. Something Sam didn't expect and was immediately suspicious.

Of course, it was unlikely that this was a well-laid trap set across the border to Canada to capture the almighty and powerful Falcon (a theory Bucky had been too eager to squash), but still… it was good to have people on standby just in case.

So here sat two super soldiers. In the porch of a discontinued, picket-fenced safe house in a small wholesome town of Canada awaiting their comrade. He was over there now probably sipping tea and listening to his Great Aunt witter on.

Bucky sighed.

"Why are we drinking beers anyway?" He launched himself from his seat, almost jittery with boredom. He paused suddenly is eyes glistening as a thought struck him. "Hey didn't Shuri give us some stuff she distilled herself in the lab?" He smiled mischievously a hand resting on the door handle to the house.

Steve laughed. "Surely my company can't be that bad?"

"Come on Steve, when was the last time we were _drunk_?" He was grinning wildly like a teen wanting to steal from his dad's liquor cabinet. But the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Steve's smile slipped slightly at this realisation. He'd noticed it before.

"Come on, Steve, It'll be fun."

"We are on duty." He tried to hide his smile. "We need to be sober if Sam needs us." He paused a moment. "Though I think sometimes when we went out drinking made you a better fighter." Steve taunted.

"That's because I always had to save your ass after you picked a fight!" Bucky countered and unfortunately, Steve couldn't deny the truth. They both knew he had a problem for picking fights he couldn't win.

Suddenly both soldiers tensed. The small happy noises of the neighbourhood had stopped.

Bullets rained down from the newly armed residents of the town. Bucky threw himself through the doorway, slamming it behind him. His head whipped to the left as Steve came crashing through the window at an attempt to save himself. They exchanged a curt nod before slamming their fingers into their ears.

"SAM!" They yelled in unison down the comms.

Bucky scrambled across the floor into the back room followed by Steve, who was updating Sam on the situation.

The neverending waves of bullets tore through the house. Wood splintered, littering the floor and throwing sawdust into the air. The ornate cabinet containing crystal glasses created a waterfall of shattered glass cascading down the punctured wood.

The door slammed shut, numbing the sound of the onslaught. They sat panting on either side of the door frame as more bullets punched through the wood. Steve reached for the duffle bag across from him but it crumpled under his hand. Empty. Bucky's face turned grim. They took the weapons.

"What the fuck?" Bucky growled under his breath.

Steve threw the useless bag away. "You good?"

"Got clipped." Bucky gestured lightly to the small patch of blood soaking into his right sleeve. The force of the bullet had taken a small patch of the grey material away but it was clear that the bullet only skimmed him. "You?"

"Same." Steve's injury wasn't too bad either but it looked a lot worse. The bullet had grazed his collar bone, the blood dripped down his shoulder soaking into his white t-shirt as far down as his waist. "I guess this invite was a trap after all."

"But not for bird brain," Bucky growled bitterly. "They know what they are doing, efficient, good aim," he touched his arm lightly, "and good acting. Did you see the pensioners with automatics? I knew no neighbourhood could be this 'nice'".

"Getting cynical in your old age, Buck?" Bucky raised his eyebrows. "I thought you wanted some action?"

"I take it back. I prefer the Disney town." Bucky whispered.

"Was that a pop-culture reference?" Steve smiled lightly to which Bucky shrugged.

The sound of the bullets stopped.

Both men stood silently, their eyes locked briefly as they wordlessly exchanged strategy and Steve joined behind Bucky as his friend placed a tentative hand on the doorknob. He eased open the door.

The Winter Soldier took a breath as his eyes scanned for any movement. Quickly he skimmed around the door and, like fluid, positioned himself past the corridor behind a large pillar in the open space. Seconds later Steve was behind another pillar across from him.

They both peered round to see the front door still shut as Bucky left it. The beautiful stained glass window that occupied most of the top half of the door was now shattered on the floor and as Steve looked over to his friend he also saw glimmers of the red and green shards resting in his hair.

Destruction had ripped through the house; wallpaper peeled from its canvas, leaving craters in place of pastel flowers. The polished wood floor was littered with remnants of furniture and ornaments.

This had been such a small, unassuming house and now it was a battleground.

An almost inaudible metal clink was the only warning they got as a small, metal ball rolled between them. They were thrown backwards by a strong pulse. Bucky landed hard on the glass from Steve's earlier entrance through the window while Steve collided with the wall on the opposite side.

They barely had time to scramble to their feet before people kitted with civilian clothes and guns flooded through the front door, easily recognisable as the humble residents from before.

"Rendezvous Alpha," Steve called as he sprinted through a door that leads to the back of the house.

With the horde of bodies with guns between them, Bucky had no choice but to turn and leap out of the empty window frame, sprinting with all his might to the nearest car driving behind it as bullets once again following him.

Pressing his comms he was left only with static. He yanked it out of his ear to see it sparking angrily and threw it away from him in disgust. "Shit." He gathered his breath. He needed focus.

The end of a gun appeared to his left. He thrust himself towards it, twisting the but away from his face. He gave a sharp jab and the gun was his. With trained ease, he raised the automatic. Two. Three hostile down. A grenade was thrust his way but he shot it, exploding it before it came within range.

A torrent of fists attacked from behind but he dodged each one. Sweat was beading on his brow. This should have been easy; at least for his skill set. They weren't particularly spectacular at hand to hand.

He threw his assailant over the bonnet of the car he was hiding behind. The man landed with a thud. It was muffled. Everything was muffled. His skin was burning, numbness setting in his aching limbs. He fell to one knee, his mind racing across his body, trying to find the problem. His arm. It was on fire. Panic set in with the realisation. The bullets were laced. Not only laced but infused with something so strong that a graze could take down a super soldier.

Steve was hit too, he must already have lost consciousness. With his wound, he must have had a heavier dose. He called his friend's name weakly into the blurred motion of people around him. He's tingling wrists were crushed under the weight of their grip as they held him. He watched but he could do nothing but try and stay conscious. And even that was hard.

Frustration screamed at his unresponsive body. Willing it to fight. To do anything. But then all went quiet. 'You better hurry up bird brain.' His eyes slipped closed.

On the painted white porch of the house, a faint buzzing was inaudible over the gunfire and shouting as a small flip phone vibrated against the floorboards. In the small illuminated box on the front was the words 'Tony Stark'.

* * *

**Okay so I'm nearly finished with Chapter 2 but I honestly don't know how long I'll take to publish but if you like it and want to hear more then I'll do my best! Please review and let me know if I made any mistakes, constructive criticism always welcome. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I'm broke and own Nothing!**

**So here's Chapter 2 hope you like it :D**

* * *

Sam didn't often visit his relatives, so with the added drama of the accords, it had been nearly four years since his last visit. As he walked up to the bowing wooden steps of the porch to his Great Aunt's door his mind relaxed with the familiarity of the place. The worn chipped paint, the crooked brass knocker. He crumpled the plastic film around the box he was holding, absently breathing in the smell of freshly pruned flowers in the window box. This was his childhood. He was hesitant to knock the door, longing to soak in these overwhelming feelings of nostalgia. Then suddenly the door opened for him.

"Samuel Thomas Wilson, it's been a long time since you paid me a visit." She looked him up and down with a stern expression. She leaned heavily on a polished, maroon walking stick and her slightly greying hair was pulled back into a conserved bun, but her eyes burned with a passion of youth. "Those chocolates better be for me." Her eyes locked on the small, brown box Sam held, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"Your favourite." He smiled as big as his mouth would let him and flew open his arms for a hug, a tactic he was familiar with from a young age to try and get out of trouble.

"They were my favourite a few years ago, Samuel." She narrowed her eyes but only seconds passed before her face broke. "Gimme the chocolates _then_ you get a hug."

The house was just as he remembered it. The Japanese style wallpaper weaved pastel pink flowers around dark branches, their flow disturbed only by the dark oak sideboards that lined the space. Each room was packed with quirky mismatched furniture she had collected over the years, no two even comparable in style. In her youth, she travelled as far as she could reach, barely a penny to her name. She'd seen a lot over her life and Sam loved to hear about her tails of adventure and weird happenings as a child. In fact, coming to her quaint village in the middle of nowhere was one of his favourite days out. Most children would have been bored in such a place. There were no neighbour kids to laugh about with, no parks or farms, just his great Aunt's adventures that he could share.

He smiled wistfully at the pictures of him ageing across the room, almost like a timeline of his life, all the way to recent years. He picked up one of the frames and lightly stroked the edge with his thumb. It was a picture of him and his comrade in uniform, in this very house. He felt the sting of loss spike the back of his throat but he swallowed it back.

His great aunt approached carrying a tray of tea, she shook her head lightly. "I was gonna put up a more recent photo of you but I thought the newspaper clipping, painting you as a fugitive would be in bad taste next to that one." She raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips but her eyes held a glimmer of excitement. "What did you get yourself into?"

Sam wasn't sure how long they talked but it was long enough for topics to change several times, effortlessly flowing through events that had happened since they last met. He told her about the accords, SHIELD, his adventures as an Avenger, the new found friendship in Captain America (he was her childhood hero so they spent a long time talking there) and all things in between. In any other circumstance, Sam would have felt it as a break of trust to talk about such confidential things but with his Aunt, he had no doubt in her ability to keep her mouth shut.

She also slipped some stories in too, but to her dismay, they were much less action-packed. Some new hobbies she had started, archaeology research that she was taking an interest in but otherwise uneventful, yet Sam was still intently listening to every word. He was in awe at how much he missed her. With everything that happened it was amazing to hear her sly comments about neighbourhood gossip and passionate summaries of new historical discoveries around the world. Sam had almost forgotten why he came, that was until his Aunt mentioned the letter.

"I know I like to take the higher ground when it comes to visits, Samuel, but I have to admit I called you here so I could ask a favour of you." Her finger traced the edge of the teacup and she looked down into the small puddle of tea at the bottom, briefly avoiding his eyes.

Sam smiled as she looked up, giving her a solid nod.

"Its Alicia's grandson, I don't know him myself, but she said he called in the middle of the night scared about his workplace. He doesn't have anyone else you see, no other family, he talked about not being able to trust his friends, I suppose because they all work at the same place. He said that they have been dealing with some off-continent company and doing all sorts of bad things. Alicia never said what but the look in her eyes, Sam," she looked up at him suddenly, her voice trembling, "that will stay with me."

The soldiers face hardened and he took her hand. "Is he going to the police?"

"That's the thing," her eyes glazed with a misty cover, "Alicia hasn't heard from him and it's been a couple weeks now. She thinks…" Her voice trailed away, not wanting to complete the thought.

She gave Sam's hand a quick squeeze and gently corrected her posture, gaining back her authority and losing the brief image of vulnerability. "I know you have friends in high places now." She raised an eyebrow, almost in disbelief. "Please, can you look into it."

He quickly took the name of Alicia's grandson and the name of the company, he recognised it immediately as one of Stark's rising competitors. Then without prompt, he collected the empty cups and busied himself doing the dishes.

Just as he was placing a saucer into the drying rack there was a sudden scream in his ear. His hand spasmed and he flung the saucer into the kitchen counter, smashing it on impact. He distantly heard his great aunt complain but at the moment his attention was drawn elsewhere.

"There are at least twelve heavily armed civilians surrounding the safe house, they have engaged and we are taking cover." Steve's voice was calm despite the volume he needed to be heard over the gunfire. "We need backup now."

"I'm on my way. Keep me updated." He hastily dried his hands on a nearby towel and jogged back into the lounge.

"Samuel?" His Great Aunt had the buzz of excitement in her voice. "What's going on?"

Sam smirked and quickly kissed her on the forehead. "I have to go." He swiped his jacket and ran out the door, bolting to the car and throwing open the boot. He grasped for the metal structure inside and threw it over his back, yanking the goggles down over his face. The last thing he saw before he took flight was his Aunt stood wide-eyed at the door. Then all he saw was clouds.

As he gained speed he found that any efforts to further contact them was futile. His calls for acknowledgement were left only with static. He felt the dread build in his stomach. Twelve assailants? Surely they would be no match for Captain America and the White Wolf (or whatever he went by these days) but for some reason, Sam had a bad feeling about it.

What he saw when he arrived made his stomach drop. The once calm neighbourhood that was now engulfed in smoke from a flaming car, a few scattered bodies littered the ground along with discarded weapons and pools of blood. But that wasn't the source of his panic.

Three men were dragging Steve into the back of a van. He wasn't moving. Not even flinching as they pulled him mercilessly across the asphalt. His clothes were soaked in blood. Sam's blood boiled.

He swooped in, his feet colliding with the largest of the three men. Twisting he slammed his elbow behind him causing the second man to lose his grip on Steve and take a mad swing at the Falcon. Sam ducked grasping the man's arm and flipping him over his shoulder into the third guy. He planted his feet firmly, catching Steve and lowering him to the ground. There was movement behind him. Out of nowhere, the first man was back on his feet, his gun raised, but in his haste, he failed to notice the small drone behind him and with a quick flick of Sam's wrist, the drone collided with his head, knocking him out along with his other two assailants.

Sam crouched down beside his friend, heart racing. "Steve." He gave him a small shake. No response. Sam raised two fingers to his neck. The pulse was strong and his shoulders sagged.

He was ripped from his relief by the sounds of guns loading. His head snapped up to see six more people around him, each holding a deadly rifle pointed in his direction. Begrudgingly he raised his hands above his head. With a sense of dread he realised that his appearance had not caused much of a stir amongst the assailants. Rather than confused, panicked faces, he found himself confronted by smirks and eyes twinkling with excitement. They all clocked their guns almost simultaneously. Sam tensed. He considered what his last words might be.

A sudden bang made him jump. A manhole cover came soaring from behind him taking out three people in one sweep.

It distracted the others long enough for Sam to raise his wings to protect himself from the onslaught of bullets, spinning towards their origin and taking out another two people. He heard the last active gun clicking, as the 'civilian' uselessly pulled the empty trigger. He turned to face her, face taught. "Who do you work for?"

She growled in response throwing down her gun. She wore a pastel coloured top, now mottled with dust and grime. Her make-up was smeared just below one of her eyes and it gave her a demonic shadow. There was a pause. She yanked the large pearls from her neck and hurled them towards his face, the beads scattering and throwing him off his guard. In one fluid movement, she slipped a knife out her belt and bought it crashing down.

Sam threw his hands up desperately trying to protect himself. He knew it would do no good. He reacted too late.

But no blade came.

Sam lowered his arms to see her face frozen. She staggered backwards, the knife clattering to the floor, her hands grappling at the blade protruding from her chest. He whirled around to see Bucky leaning heavily against the van. He was breathing was laboured as he crouched over himself trying to regain his balance. His eyes were locked with Sam's. Bucky had saved his life.

"What so you're playing frisbee with manhole covers now?" Sam called mockingly.

"Your welcome." He grumbled stumbling towards Steve.

Sam swooped over to him, taking his weight. "What the hell happened?" Bucky did nothing but grumble in reply. "I swear I leave you guys five minutes..."

* * *

It wasn't until he reached the tower that his mind caught up. Peter shoved his shoulders through the small window to the driver's side of the car. "Wait! Mr Stark sold Avengers tower ages ago!"

Happy smirked. "That's only what the public think. Tony wants to keep it off the books for," he looked at the kid, an eyebrow raised, "'special' events. Damn publicity stunt nearly cost us an entire horde of top-secret technology though."

"Your welcome!" Peter chimed retracting his head and throwing himself out of the car. The excitement was hitting him now and he could help but feel giddy over Happy's words. 'Special'.

As they walked up towards the wall of mirrored glass, he bounced on the balls of his feet, gawping at the building's entrance. It was seamless panes of glass almost four times their height, interrupted only by a sliding door which opened on their arrival.

When they entered they were bathed in the gleam of the white, polished walls and furniture, beaming the light around the room making it almost blinding to be in. This was broken only by the occasional potted ficus around the edges and the presence of the brightly dressed receptionist slouched behind the desk. The blonde was boredly flipping through a magazine with her pristine, pointed, pink nails; her highlighted curls bobbing to the side as she absently tilted her head while she read. She barely batted a false eyelash as Happy strode through the open area, past the desk and up to the sheen, white wall.

Happy swiped his card from his pocket and suddenly a small square of the wall retracted revealing a glass camera. He removed his dark glasses and leaned in as the scanner plotted his iris, giving a beep and a green light before an entire chunk of the wall folded in on itself leaving what looked like the inside of a lift.

Peter gauped at the whole exchange. He pressed his hand over the area the scanner had come from, now replaced by wall. He could barely feel any indentation it was incredible. Tony Stark was a man known for having secrets but this was crazy. To have this so secretive, he must be doing something shady. Or at least something he wanted to keep off the books. Maybe he was harbouring fugitives.

His heart skipped at the thought. The prospect that Captain America and the other runaway Avengers standing in the same building in which he now stood was amazing. 'This must be a mission!' He decided, without a shadow of a doubt. He felt his chest puff with pride. He had been chosen to go on a mission with the Avengers.

Happy yanked him into the lift just as it closed. Then the wall closed behind them as if nothing had been there in the first place.

They emerged a few seconds later into a sleek black corridor that opened out into a vast living area. As they walked, the space curved round a modern kitchen that looked onto the lounge. It was littered with suave black leather sofas and a ceiling-to- floor television screen. The kitchen looked untouched. Appliances of all kinds were lined neatly along the back wall, shining in the harsh spotlights above the counters.

It was stunning. Peter felt reluctant to even step any further. He cringed at the memory of the muddy puddles he stomped through getting to school that morning. The stain on his t-shirt from lunch. He wondered if he should have dressed smarter.

His mind was running away so much he almost didn't notice the billionaire.

Tony stood facing the New York skyline, the curved lines of his designer suit a bold contrast to the block towers of the city. He was speaking hurriedly on a small Nokia phone. "Just get to the compound." Were his final words as he hung up, swinging around with a showboating grin that Peter knew was for his benefit.

"Hap, can you give us a minute?" He placed a hand on Peter's shoulder and steered him towards one of the leather sofas.

"What you want me to leave? You know I'm not just a delivery guy-"

"That exactly what you are, now go find Lang he should be in the building somewhere. Bring him here would you." As Happy begrudgingly shuffled to the lift Tony called thanks but it was more of a mocking addition than a sincere one.

"Lang, like Scott Lang, like the Ant guy?"

Tony turned his attention back to the teen who was sat in one of the armchairs, barely on the edge of his seat, his leg bouncing up and down furiously. "Now before we start, this is not a mission." The deflation in the kid's posture was brutally evident. "You know, being on the ground is good, gets you some good training and all. Your not quite mission-ready but you're getting there, just keep your head down and keep at it. How're the patrols going?"

Peter swallowed his disappointment as best he could. "It's going really well, Mr Stark. Haven't seen any high tech weapons in a while so I think I must have got most of Vulture's crew."

"Good Good." Tony busied himself making a coffee. "Police relations?" It was something Tony was keeping an eye on so he knew the answer. In truth, he wanted to check the kid knew the answer as well.

"Good… well they come and pick up the criminals when I leave a note, some of them say thank you. I know that some of them think I shouldn't be helping and stuff, which makes sense I mean it's technically illegal." He laughed lightly, swallowing hard.

Tony nodded. "How's school?"

"It's… good." He hesitated. "Mr Stark, Is this just like a check in thing because Happy told me to bring some of my stuff-"

"Okay, okay I get it, less of the small talk." He plonked down on the sofa opposite him, slouching into the familiar grooves. At his words, the kid slightly drew in his eyebrows, enlarging his eyes. "Jeez kid loosen up, you look like a dejected puppy," he sighed, "I actually bought you here for a debrief, for one of the missions me and Widow just ran."

Peter perked up at this.

"We found a new big bad, maybe Hydra level we don't know yet. We managed to look into some of their files and they are into a lot of bad stuff. The most important is that they are after enhanced humans which, unfortunately, includes ragtag vigilantes such as yourself. They have already made a play for some, and possibly had success in bringing in others."

Tony paused. Peter was nodding slowly but he was waiting for the drop. It was time to rip the band-aid off. "They have a file on you containing your identity and all your personal information."

The colour drained from Peter's face.

"Not to worry. That fancy cruise your Aunt's on I put it all together, I have people on there that I trust watching her and no one got any spaces on the ship after I got May on there, she's safe. I've also got someone watching you're school just in case. Hey, Pete, still with me?" He snapped his fingers in front of his face.

Peter suddenly stood from the chair, staring off into the New York skyline. "I should-"

"Sit down, kid." When there was no movement from the teen, he sighed and stood with him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I need you to stay here, your gonna take some time off school just until we can see what kind of threat they pose. Okay?"

Peter nodded shakily.

"Now while you're here: no hitting the streets in your onesie; no leaving the compound at all actually; definitely no inviting anyone into the compound, not even your little nerd friend, okay? I programmed you into all the building's security so you can make commands if you need to. You have free reign of the building including the labs, I put some of the spider specs in there if you fancy giving it a look." He wasn't even sure if he was listening. "Come on kid, your killing me with that blank expression."

His mind sluggishly processed the information as he stumbled out of his daze. "Where do I sleep?"

"You have floor 21."

"Floor?"

"Floor."

With the looming threat over his head, it was hard to be excited but he felt it fighting through his fear. He was in Avengers Tower! Peter couldn't comprehend the idea that he had an entire floor dedicated to him. Only Avengers had their own floor. His heart stopped. "Am I an Avenger?"

"No."

Just then Happy came through the door followed by Scott Lang. The latter was wearing casual jeans and a t-shirt, a large duffle bag swung over his shoulder.

"Oh look, the babysitter is here." Tony called.

"Babysitter?" Peter cried in disgust and Scott called in confusion.

"Scott this is my intern Peter, his Aunt is out of town I need you to look after him for a few days. He's got some stuff he needs to work on in the lab, have fun you two!" He hastily retreated back towards the elevator but Peter was close behind him.

"Wait, Mr Stark!"

Tony stopped as he called the lift turning to face the teen before he could say another word. He lowered his voice. "I left it open for you to tell Lang about your nightly activities if you want, for now, he just thinks your my intern, I recommend you keep it that way I don't really know the guy." He stepped in the lift without a chance for a reply.

Peter jerked out his hand to stop them from closing. "Mr Stark!" Tony shot him a look. "Sorry," he retracted his hand," but I can help! I don't need to be babysat! You saw! I took on the Vulture so I have some experience and this organisation thing knows about me already so it's not like you're dragging me into it; I'm kinda already involved." His speech slowed as he saw his mentor's exasperated sigh. "I can help." The statement was quieter than before. "Please."

Tony stepped out the lift. Once more placing a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I wanna bring you in, kid," Peter flinched at the word, "but first I need to assess the situation before we have a new variable in play. You've got to understand that."

"But you said that I was ready! You said I could join."

"The team haven't trained with you…"

"I can train now! I-"

"No."

Tony sighed deeply retracting back into the open lift, "right now there's too much happening, too many unknowns and having you on the field is just going to be more of a hindrance than a help. I'm sorry, Pete. You're doing good but you're not quite there yet."

With that, the elevator doors closed leaving Peter staring at the shiny steel doors. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. His teeth tugging gently on the back of his lip inside his mouth. The pit in his stomach churning with anger, worry and doubt. He wanted to say more. To shout, to demand to be a part of the mission. Damned to the comfort of other team members, he wanted to fight back. It was his fight too. He burned with the injustice of it all.

Painfully, he swallowed.

He turned and walked back into the vast living room. Happy was giving Scott the rundown of the building, how to get food, etc. Scott listened intently, nodding and occasionally giving an impressed mumble.

"But most importantly no bringing anyone outside the tower, inside the tower." Happy's speech was slow and deliberate as if he was talking to toddlers. He turned to Peter. "No one outside," he pointed out the window, "inside," then gestured to the room. "Got it?"

"Outside, inside, sure whatever. Where's the games room? Tony told me there was a games room." Scott's face lit up with excitement at the prospect.

Happy looked blankly at him for a moment. He turned to the ceiling. "FRIDAY game's room?"

"_The game's floor is floor 27." _

Scott beamed, "Game's floor?!"

* * *

Clint washed the leftover bumps of pastry away from his hands, scratching as the stubborn pieces collected on his fingertips. From where he stood he could see his son sat on the lawn irritably scratching his head over his math homework. "He's still struggling?" He turned to Laura.

"Grades are improving though." She smiled rubbing a spot of flower off his cheek. "He's a fighter." She kissed the now fresh patch of cheek before flinging the towel in his face. She stood beside him, resting he hand lightly on his shoulder. The sun warmed their faces as it floated through the bright yellow curtains patterned with corn. Laura hated them and hid them away when he was gone, but now he was back they hung proudly over the sink. He looked at her now, her face soft in the sunlight. These last few months had been perfect.

"Is that Nat? She doesn't look happy." He turned back to he window. As they watched a sleek black sports car pulled into the dirt drive and Natasha emerged hastily out of it. She waved happily as their son called over but there was no excitement to her gesture.

Clint looked over to his wife, concern evident in her features. They both knew what this meant. Things were bad if he was getting called in. It was rare that Natasha bothered him when he was with the family. Especially now Nathan is in his terrible twos. He gave Laura an apologetic look that was met only with one of resilience.

"Well, go let her in." She smiled but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

Natasha stood at the door, her crimson hair loosely braided so that small strands curled lazily around her ears. He hadn't seen her hair this long in a while. She wore her favourite warn brown leather jacket and some black jeans. Nothing about her appearance suggested trouble, but her smile… he knew immediately something was up.

"I'm guessing you're not here for lemon strüdel." He smirked. The citrus smell bounced from the kitchen.

"Unfortunately not today."

Her features were light and he felt himself relax. Nothing _too_ bad had happened yet. He flicked to the kitchen towel over his shoulder and hugged her tight, her slight frame was tense. "Let me grab my stuff."

Nat flopped down on the edge of his bed as he packed, her fingers grazing through the contents of the suitcase. "Do you own anything that's not flannel." She raised an eyebrow as she pulled out a bright yellow and grey shirt that she held only with the tips of her fingers.

He snatched it off her. "It's stylish."

"Its farm boy." She teased as he neatly folded the shirt back into the case.

He shrugged. "I live on a farm."

"Maybe if you let Laura do a bit more of your shopping…" She pulled out a silk black shirt, this time holding it up so she could see how the material hung. "Yes." She murmured as turned it, trying to hold it up in front of where he stood. "This works."

"It's not as comfy though." He countered, laughing at her face of disgust. He took the shirt from her throwing it back in.

"You sound like your sixty." She took the shirt out again, this time folding it neatly back in.

"I feel like I'm sixty." He huffed. When he turned back he wasn't greeted with the playful smirk he expected.

She had pulled out a navy box not much bigger than her hand. It was soft to the touch, almost valour but not quite. Small bits of fluff had collected on the corners from the suitcase but apart from that, there wasn't a scratch on it. She passed her thumb over the lid a memory tugging at the back of the throat. The small scar on her shoulder tingled. "You still have this?"

"You think I'd get rid of it?" He gently took the box from her hands and placed it carefully back into the corner of the suitcase she had taken it from. He zipped up the suitcase hauling it off the bed effortlessly.

"Bad memories." She mumbled.

"Or the start of good ones." A whisper of a smile played on his lips. "Besides, shows once and for all who would win in a fight."

The smirk engulfed her features. "Oh is that right?" She rose gracefully from the bed so she was face to face with him. "I guess we will have to see." She paused nodding her head towards the door. "After briefing of course."

She glided passed him lightly grazing his shoulder on her way out. As she turned the corner he could hear the faint hum of electricity outside the door. A sound he was all too familiar with. Clint puffed out a sigh. "And that winner was you." He mumbled. "Goddammit."

He arrived to the compound within a few hours, settling into his room as if he had never left. He was surprised to know that Tony still kept his room reserved in the building seeing as he rarely helped out even before the accords. Even though he'd only stayed here a handful of times, somehow it seemed like a second home.

The meeting was called within only an hour of him arriving. He stalked into the office room with Natasha closely after him, only slightly over the specified time. They were greeted by the familiar sight of a sleek, glass table that spanned the space, surrounded by shiny leather chairs. Clint raised an eyebrow. It was the same room they had been called to when the accords were first laid out to them. He wondered if Tony did it on purpose or if it was just some kind of unfortunate accident. Clint corrected his thought. He knew Tony never did anything by accident.

Seeing Rhodey was expected, Tony's confidant was always near his side. They took seats beside him exchanging small nods and greetings.

Tony was stood across the room fiddling with his watch, flicking through data that was projected before him. His eyes lifted at the sound of the newcomers, darting quickly past Clint. Things were still uncomfortable since Germany. He was avoiding eye contact so much Clint almost wondered if he felt guilty. Cap tried to convince him that Iron man not making an appearance at their escape from the rig was no accident but he was sceptical. The billionaire did seem very eager to put them there in the first place by his memory.

Many of the group knew something more happened that day. Tony and Steve disappeared off the grid and returned beaten to a pulp, neither of them sharing what happened. Some kind of unspeakable event that both refused to talk about.

That's why the arrival of Captain America and his allies was shocking and really brought the gravity of the situation to light. Bucky's hair was messy and unkempt, a small scratch across his forehead the most of his visible injuries. The Captain, however, looked a lot more worse for wear. His golden hair was still a dusty brown from the dirt, specs of blood crusted a patch near the back of his ear where he hadn't been able to clean in such short notice. Scratches littered one side of his face and down his arm that had only just begun to heal and a large white bandage could be seen bulking out of his clothing from his opposite shoulder.

"You look terrible, Cap!" Rhodey frowned.

Steve chuckled lightly "Good to see you, Rhodey."

The Colonel turned to Tony. "You gonna tell us why you called this meeting? I'm guessing it has something to do with the state of these two." He turned to the super soldiers. "No offence Cap but your fugitives we should be bringing you in."

Tony huffed a laugh. "I think we have bigger problems."

Rhodey raised his eyebrows. A heavy silence settled in the room as if daring someone to talk.

"There's someone making a play for enhanced humans." Steve's grim expression was not uncommon, but there was something else behind his tone.

"And I'm guessing this isn't a small group of misfits we are talking about." Clint sighed. He was tapping a pen lightly on the edge of the table, the rhythmic clicks doing nothing to ease the tension.

Steve glanced fleetingly at the pen before continuing. "They made a play for us; we were surrounded with highly trained mercenaries within seconds with no warning." Bucky pulled a face of distaste. A light expression considering the position he was in merely hours ago.

"Their bullets were laced with a neurotoxin strong enough to take down our resident superhumans with only a scratch." Tony pulled up a hologram of some of the weapons used. Hand arms, knives, assault rifles and many other weapons hovered gloomily above the glass table. "Armed to the teeth with expensive equipment."

"We tried to take people in for questioning but by the time we gathered ourselves any of those who couldn't flee took their own lives before we had the chance." Steve's jaw tightened. "There is only one other time I've seen this kind of behaviour."

"So this is Hydra?" Clint couldn't help but feel a rise of frustration. But he quashed it, instead losing himself in the ebb and flow of the two leaders.

"We don't know." Steve's eyes burned. "If it is then we know how to handle them."

"They weren't flexing the same merch so we hope not." Tony sighed. "But they are just as big and just as bad." Tony flicked his wrist above the table and four personnel files appeared in the air. "These are some of the enhanced humans we've been watching. As of two weeks ago, they all went missing."

Clint found his attention drawn to one in particular, a teenage girl, no older than his daughter. He felt his stomach lurch at the thought of someone so young being dragged into this mess. If the group were anything like Hydra, then it wouldn't be a five star hotel they were keeping her in. If she was even still alive.

Steve squared his shoulders. "This is all hands on deck. They have the resources and the intent to take away half the team."

"What about the team, where is everyone?" Rhodes brow creased in concern.

"I had T'challa take Wanda into his diamond castle or whatever he has in Wakanda. Vis is on stately business," he exchanged a glance with Rhodey, "and I made arrangements for Spiderman." His sentence almost trailed off as he skimmed over the last point.

The people in the room looked intently in his direction. Spiderman was such a matter of intrigue for so many, it was a secret Tony kept close to his chest. Not ever Rhodey, his closest friend, seemed to know anything except that he really cared for the guy. Tony shifted his weight trying to ignore the stares instead looking back to the Captain.

"But it doesn't mean they are safe." Steve pushed. "These people have serious traction. We need to finish this quickly and cleanly before they regroup and make another play."

Many of the group gave a curt nod.

"Romanoff, run them through the details." Tony nodded towards the spy.

Natasha brought up all the information they had pieced together so far on the hologram. It was minimal. She began telling them about what they found in the base they stumbled upon. Tony had compiled a broken list of things he could remember when browsing through the systems and she began to go over these things now, carefully making the distinction between those they knew for sure and facts that Tony was only half-sure he remembered. Her words were concise and professional.

"Rogers, a word?" Tony pulled him aside. He dipped his head towards the door and they both stalked off as Natasha continued, aware of weary eyes that followed their exit.

Tony strode into the small office across the hall. Normally he would have people working in there, keeping the compound running and organising small sanctioned missions required by the United Nations. However, Tony sent his entire staff home the moment there was a chance of threat. With the Avengers on site there was no need for civilians in the way.

He looked around the disorganised workspace. Files were strewn across the desk and piles where laid out on the floor in what looked like an attempt to organise the data. It was Johnson's office. A long-running employee from SHIELD who came with a glowing recommendation from Maria Hill. He was a talented data analyser, Tony had him looking over reports of hydra sightings or rumours and every place he identified was a hit. Talented kid.

"Tony?"

"Yep." Tony pulled himself from his thought. " You don't think this is a coincidence right?" He grabbed a pencil from the desk and span it between his fingers. "We find this hit list that you're on and within two hours your hit?" He smacked the pencil on the table. "Doesn't sit quite right."

"Maybe they panicked."

Tony shrugged. He saw the doubt under his tone and accepted his answer. There was no direct reason to suggest they had been played and yet the order of events seemed too coincidental. Steve thought so too which was all he wanted to check; as long as the caution was there, all they could do was go with it for now.

He toyed with his next question, passing it playfully around his head forming the words. Rogers seemed contempt not to talk about the events in Germany for now and though Tony loathed to bring it up he had to know one thing. "Is he safe?" His heart constricted.

Steve furrowed his brow.

"Barnes. Did they fix him?"

Steve's shoulders tensed. Tony noticed him shift his weight as if preparing to pounce. He wondered if he was expecting a fight.

"Not yet." He was careful. Choosing his words. "They are close."

"So all it would take are the right words."

A heavy silence hung between them.

"You gonna lock him up?" It sounded more like a polite inquire than a threat, a stark difference to his attitude only a year ago. He settled Tony with calm stair, his crystal eyes aching with the weight of the question. Tony hated these kinds of decisions. The ones which lacked logic and instead required a delicate and emotional reasoning in order to settle things. The logical decision would be to lock Barnes away until he was brainwash free so that it was safer for everyone but Steve didn't think that. Not to mention if he locked up Barnes it would also be fuelling his very real, very urgent need for some kind of justice. Even now he could feel it burning in his stomach. Tony made his decision.

"I trust you." His carefree tone did nothing to lessen the gesture and Steve's eyes softened. "He can't go out into the field though, you know that."

Steve nodded. It was better than the answer he was expecting. "Thank you Tony."

The billionaire shuddered at the sincerity and the weight of the conversation. "Okay, I'm done with you. Go," he lazily waved him away, "settle into your room. I just had Happy stock the fridges so there's plenty of food."

Steve chuckled. He imagined Happy's face when he asked that of him. He turned to go. Pausing briefly at the door, he turned towards him. "We'll take them down, Tony, like we always do."

* * *

**Okay so here it is, not too much going on but I'm gonna try and build it, I have some of the climax chapters wrote for some of the plot points which I'm very excited about. Woooah momma its gonna go down. But yeh that requires me actually getting to that part of the story so we shall see. I will try and get another chapter up soon so let me know what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own Nothing! Nothing I say!**

**Right here is the next chapter it is a bit bigger than the others but it sets a couple of things in motion that is really exciting (for me anyway) so hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Scott hugged tight to the wall, his white knuckles locked around his rifle as he listened intently for movement. The hallway was dark, the red whirring light giving him a sense of unease as the shadows shifted around him in the crimson glow. When he was sure he heard no noise he pressed his finger into his ear activating the communicator.

"I can't see anyone here." He snuck around the corner and ducked behind a treadmill.

In the last week, he'd only been in the gym once before when he was exploring. There was an upper level to the gym meaning a high balcony of treadmills and other cardio machines loomed over him. He had a sudden surge of guilt for not going to the gym. He should be taking advantage, it was probably the best collection of equipment in New York, possibly even America. It was so insanely equipt that if Tony charged an entrance fee it could trump all the local businesses. Not that Tony Stark needed more money, nor cared about running a small gym, especially as he supplied schematics and designs for machines to all the top fitness hubs in the city. Turns out that making a gym for a super-soldier has a lot of practical applications for business.

He'd seen the story in the news only a few months ago, it marked the 6th year that the billionaire had donated equipment into all local schools free of charge. Instead of highlighting the amazing benefits of top-end equipment for students, the report focused on the negative imaging of heroes stating that it gave children an unattainable goal and the 'Super-Soldier' machinery was only adding to that leading onto… Cassie had turned the tv off at that point, throwing the remote away without a second glance.

Scott snapped himself out of his thoughts. He was getting distracted and he couldn't afford to let his guard down.

Now, in the dim light, the looming shadows of the equipment seemed to surround him, catching his eye and causing his pulse to quicken. He tried to calm his adrenaline rush, running quickly to hide behind a weight rack further into the room. The sensors had said there was someone in the gym. He just had to find them.

His eyes scoured every crevice, pouring over the equipment and every shadow even for the slightest of movements, his finger dancing on the trigger. There was nothing. Scott took a breath. He slowly got up from his hiding place and began to weave around the machines. The coast was clear. Or so he thought.

Pain flared in his back. He twisted to its source but it was too late.

"Ha! I got you Dad!" Cassie triumphantly raised her paintball gun.

Peter stood behind both of them giggling as Scott dramatically fell to the floor, a splat of luminous green just visible in the dim light. The game was Peter's idea. He found that all the controls to the tower's lighting and also 'stumbled' upon Mr Stark's paintball guns that the Avengers use for training (Well that's what Stark would say if he was ever asked). It took him only a matter of minutes to create a realistic tower siege.

"Seems we have the upper hand now. Mwahahaha!" Peter leaned back as he chuckled as deeply as he could manage. His voice rasping near the end as he strained his throat.

"This isn't over!" Scott cried croakily from the floor. "You will never succeed in infiltrating the tower!"

"You're supposed to be dead." Cassie deadpanned to which Scott gave some even more dramatic coughs, gasping suddenly to initiate another giggle fit from her.

Out of nowhere a blur of darkened colour shot down from the upper-level railing, Hope spun gracefully as she landed her rifle pointed straight towards Cassie.

Peter dived in front of her giving the most elongated 'Noooo' he could manage. He felt the paintball collide torso and he took a dramatically loud gasp. He flopped to the floor as Cassie raised her gun hitting Hope in the lower shoulder. She regarded the 'wound' with passing annoyance.

Cassie dropped to her knees by Peter. "Your sacrifice was worth it soldier. We did it. We won." She squeezed his hand and he nodded weakly. "Now we have control of the tv." She leapt up and ran in the direction of the lift her giggles still audible from around the corner. Peter lay on the floor chuckling to himself, his torso ached from the laughter of the day.

"Reset light settings," Hope called up to the ceiling and suddenly the gym was bathed in glistening white light. "I could have won that." She huffed rubbing some of the paint between her fingers. "Next time we should play with the suits." She smirked to Scott, pulling him up from the floor.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Peter cried, jumping back to his feet. "You can't use high tech shrinking power in paintball."

He tried to control the mischievous glint in his expression at the hypocrisy behind his argument. When he was detected by the security systems in the gym, he may or may not have lept to the ceiling before Scott got a chance to investigate. The temptation to make him jump was unbearable as he skittishly checked the room. He was just glad he didn't look up. Lucky for him, his own cheating went unnoticed.

"How about we rearrange the teams." Scott mused. "Boys versus girls so it's even," he puffed out his chest, "it's only fair we have an Avenger per team." He paused pretending to count only one on his fingers. "Oh… wait…you're not an Avenger!"

Peter felt a pull in his chest. But he was talking to Hope.

"Like your even an Avenger anyway!" Hope laughed. "You barely fought alongside half the team."

"Pffft," Scott huffed, "I'll have you know I've met…" he paused reconsidering his answer, "most of the team."

Their bickering floated into the background as Peter tried to calm the spike of heat in his veins. He'd had a lot of fun with Scott over the past days and they got along really well. They built a rapport almost instantly and now Peter knew what a great guy Scott was, he was desperate to talk to him about Spidey stuff.

Peter hit the streets within the hour of promising not to leave the tower. He managed to do some digging and within only a few days he had something to go off. The place he got lucky was a homeless man who he saved from a beating by some drunken frat boys. After many thank yous and a couple of sandwiches from the nearest street vendor they got to chatting. The man had heard rumours that Spiderman was looking for some dodgy organisation and directed him towards one, right under everyone's noses.

Oscorp was a well respected chemical and biological advancement group, known even sometimes to rival that of Stark industries in the stock market. It was well known in his school and many people went onto apprenticeships in the company after they graduated. Peter's parents themselves were known scientists of the company, being a part of the teams that created some of the very first advancements of the young business. He liked to believe that the company was not as crooked back then.

The more digging he did into Oscorp the more unsettling his findings were. It was definitely something worth looking into. In fact, he was planning to sneak into the building the very next day; all it took was a late entry to an internship open day and with a glowing recommendation from his school, he was welcomed with open arms. To have Scott with him would make his life a lot easier but it was risky. To tell him not only that he was Spiderman but also that he wanted to run a surveillance operation behind everyone's backs would be a bad idea he was sure of it. Scott idolised them, especially Captain America. Surely he would tell him the moment Peter revealed his plan and yet… Peter couldn't help but trust the cheesy grin that Scott was throwing him.

"Come on, Peter!" He looked desperately his way, Hope tapped her toes behind him "I'm an Avenger, right?"

"Of course!" Peter cried, throwing a Hope a wide grin.

She rolled her eyes and stalked off in the direction Cassie ran. Scott threw him a big thumbs up and went to follow her but something in Peter switched. A rush of adrenaline pulsed through him forcing him to open his mouth.

"Um, Scott?" His voice broke in the middle.

His smile faded ever so slightly as he turned to the nervous teen. "What's up, Pete?"

He gulped. "Um, I just wanted to talk to you about something." He paused to find the words to tell him; to share with him his biggest secret that he realised and hadn't specifically _told_ anyone yet. The only people who even knew his secret had found out by accident. It was such a big decision to open up this part of his life, to welcome someone in rather than them breaking down the door. He tried to find the words. But they never came. A shaky laugh escaped him instead. "We should convince Hope to do 3 vs 1 and only she's allowed the suit."

Scott raised his eyebrows comically large. "Ooh," he cooed, "I like that idea. No shrinking paintball guns though." His eyes glistened.

Peter imagined a paintball gun waddling seemingly on its own down a corridor. They both exchanged a glance before bursting into a fit of laughter. "She'll hate it."

"Exactly!" Scott ran at full speed calling after Hope.

"Wait!" Peter lunged through the doorway after him. "If she wins we'll never live it down."

Scott swivelled mid jog allowing the teen to catch up. "Stakes are high, Pete." He patted him on the shoulder. "Now what do you say we go watch a few hours of Princess Petunia." They both cringed. "Hey, you won this is your fault."

They only managed to get through a few episodes for which Peter was grateful. He couldn't shake the longing to let Scott in on his secret but he could never quite pluck up the courage to tell him. He always seemed to be putting it off. Maybe he was hoping he'd just find out like the others.

Cassie flung herself from the sofa, interrupting his thoughts. She announced that she was bored and they had to do something else, she stood in front of the tv until someone moved. Scott stirred but Peter beat him to it. He scooped her up into a piggyback, running as fast as he could along the winding corridors.

She giggled gleefully as he ran at top speed, screaming when he skipped a corner really fast, spinning her around and changing direction. To him, it was like holding a feather, completely effortless.

With a start, he realised he was laughing uncontrollably along with her. He couldn't remember when he started and he didn't want to stop. At that moment everything else seemed to melt away. While he ran he spared a glance to look back over to the sofa where Scott and Hope were snuggled into each other watching them with an overwhelming sense of tranquillity.

It felt like something struck him in the chest. He was suddenly drowned by an engulfing sense of loss and he struggled to keep down the lump in his throat. This was an insight into the life he could have had growing up.

He swung Cassie off his back as cheerily as he could manage, he faked a pant so he seemed out of breath. "Well," he tried to avoid eye contact with Scott, "it's getting late and I've got some stuff to work on in the lab before bed."

Cassie pouted.

"Hey now Pumpkin, he's not a fun machine he needs rest." He came and scooped her rigid form into his arms. "And so do you. Bedtime."

"I need no bed!" She declared dramatically but she subconsciously rubbed her eyes.

Peter's laugh caught in his throat and he knew immediately that Scott noticed. He could almost feel his concerned eyes resting on him. He needed to leave. He gave a timid wave and began retreating to the lift.

"Goodnight Peter!" Cassie called, waving frantically.

He swivelled back, dipping into a low bow. "Goodnight commander." He forced a smile while she was still in range but the moment he turned the corner he broke into a run. He couldn't get down to the lab fast enough.

The lab was amazing. It was the first thing Peter looked at when he explored. There were pieces of discarded iron man armour that Mr Stark had left for him to play with along with specks and blueprints for the Spiderman suit do that he wanted to change anything he could. Mr Stark had left a note on these that read '_You break it, you fix it but you make it better. Tony - ps. Dum-E can help you with delicates but take the name as a warning.'_ Then he had helpfully labelled the Dum-E machine with a paper Dunce cap of which Peter quickly sent a picture to Ned so they could laugh about it.

The machine gave him no such amusement now as he trudged into the quiet lab. He picked up the electrical adapter he was adding to his web-shooters. He'd found out the hard way that accidentally webbing to a power line fries the mechanism. Falling from that kind of height was bound to leave an impression in his memory so he went about trying to prevent it in the future. Creating the device was simple enough but for it to have the durability to withstand high voltages was difficult. For that, it needed to be big and he couldn't exactly swing around New York with a battery pack attached to his wrist.

So progress on it had been reasonably slow but he hadn't been trying particularly hard. What with school work and playing games with Scott and Cassie and of course his late-night activities he didn't have much free time.

He stared deeply into the crevices of the scruffily built device unable to shake away the deep pit pooling in his stomach. Whenever he'd hit a road blocking fixing up dumpster tech he'd scavenged, his Uncle Ben would always make him do a little housework. Something he insisted was for the benefit of May (because she would never ask for help) but as he grew up he realised it was more to take his mind off it so that he could attack it with a clear head. It always worked... Until Ben left. It had been a long time since he thought this much about him. He missed him. The goofy banter and heartfelt advice that he sorely needed had been ripped away from him in one act.

He shook his head violently, setting his sights once more on the odd device. It was small but not small enough. It was almost the size of his palm. Wires frayed around the edges, odd bubbles of solder dotted what should be sleek surfaces, screws stuck out too far making it look _wrong._

He slammed it back down onto the table, plastic snapping at the impact. He needed Ben. This was when he _needed_ him and he was gone. His stomach scrunched at his earlier thoughts. To even enjoy the fantasy of any other kind of upbringing was a curse to his name. Peter couldn't have wished for better parents than Ben and May. He couldn't stop the flow of guilt that burned in his veins for even thinking anything against them.

He wasn't sure how long the tears had been flowing or when they stopped. He wasn't even sure how he had collapsed onto the desk or when he fell asleep. He only stirred when he felt someone insert a small cushion under his head and a blanket over his shoulders. He didn't go on patrol that night.

* * *

Wanda traced her fingers along the kitchen counter, the sleek marble unbearably familiar. The compound always looked the best in this light, the early dawn leaking over the tree line.

This was where she wanted to be.

She looked over the mess almost rolling her eyes. Dishes were stacked over by the sink, food crusting around the edges leaving a faint sour smell in the air. She flicked her wrist and the lid of the bin sprang open, with a devious smirk she curled her hand, red ribbons weaving their way through bowls and plates and cups, squeezing them and hauling them off the counter. In one fluid movement, they all disappeared into the trash, the lid falling shut behind them.

"Tony will wonder what happened to his fine China." Clint chuckled. He was leaning in the doorway, his hair ruffled from sleep.

"He can afford to replace it." She mused.

"It's good to see you." He couldn't help but smile, especially as the whispers of her mischievous acts still played on her features. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Cap asked me to." She didn't sound too pleased about it. She paused a moment something pulling at the corner of her mouth. She added, more quietly this time, "and Vis is back tomorrow."

"Oh is he now." Clint fluttered his eyelashes, tilting his head in an effeminate manner, his short hair not flopping to the side as Wanda's did as he mimicked her position.

She pursed her lips, glaring at him for as long as she could before her expression broke. He crossed the room immediately into her open arms and she hugged him tightly, snuggling her nose into his shoulder so could relax into his musky scent. The emotion hit her stronger than she expected. They hadn't seen each other in so long.

Reluctantly she released him, a sudden overwhelming sense of relief hit her as he patted her lightly on the head. "Welcome home kiddo."

She watched as Clint shuffled over to the curved stools that lined the breakfast bar, grabbing an open box of cereal that lay forgotten just within his reach. He picked up a spoon that was still inside it, surprised by the convenience, then began happily munching his way through.

Her smile was quickly dampened. "Where's Stark?"

"Asleep in the lab last time I checked." His sympathetic look shocked her.

"That bad?"

"No leads in over a week."

Her eyebrows arched. "Wow." She began filling the kettle, her elegant fingers whirling water from the tap to the spout, playfully dancing it in twists and turns and even a loop-de-loop before entering the appliance. She flicked the switch. "We don't often deal with people so discrete."

"Stark isn't good at waiting." He watched as wisps of red guided half-open packets and containers into awaiting cupboards, behind her sponges scrubbed a cream mug, crusted with dried out coffee. "I forgot this is why we don't have a cleaner."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You seem a lot better at this then I remember" His chin was rested in his palms as he slouched against the counter.

"I've been practising."

The clean mug settled in front of her, a tea bag whirled into it and she turned expectedly towards the kettle. It was then Clint realised he hadn't heard the kettle boiling since she switched it on. As he looked he saw steam gathering in the soundproof dome she had created so the noise didn't interrupt their conversation. She released the bubble, the vapour drifted lazily up into the air.

"Tea?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Vis likes London." She shrugged, pouring the hot water from the kettle herself.

"Do you like London?"

She breathed in the warm steam coming from the teacup, the memories of small cafes by drowned streets of the city; packed with locals ready to brave the storm once more after a warm brew. "It's nice." London was nice. Her time with Vision was incredible.

He smiled knowingly and she felt exposed as though he'd read her thoughts.

"Do they not have coffee in London?" He glanced over to his mug sat on the side, it had a cartoon Robin Hood plastered over the whole of one side. He looked between her and the mug once more.

Without a word, she jerked her fingers and the mug flew towards him at speed. His hand snapped up and the ceramic slapped into his steady palm.

"Hey! Be careful I like this mug." He called clanging it down on the table just in time to catch the wisps of instant coffee that drifted through the air towards him followed quickly by scalding water and small twirl of milk.

"Really? I thought you hated it." It was a gift from Stark she knew that much. She assumed that's why he'd never been fond of it.

His eyes softened suddenly and once more she felt her emotions exposed. "It's growing on me." He took a sip of his coffee.

She ached to change the subject. "London is nice but I like Norway. Everyone seems so carefree and unburdened. Crime is rare. There aren't many places in the world where that is true."

"I'm sure crime is low in Antarctica." He grinned taking another spoonful of cereal from the box. "So you're travelling a lot?" To her nod, he swallowed the remainder of his food and placed the box down pointedly. His voice hardened. "Steve says you're missing checkpoints." Something in her eyes twinkled and he understood, unbelievable to some, he was young once. "Just be careful. Contact is for your benefit, not his, don't make him chase after you."

"I know." She did. But she couldn't help but feel the 'checkpoints' had another purpose. Almost like keeping tabs on something unpredictable so it didn't suddenly stab you in the back.

She could feel him watching her, dissecting her expression, reaching for her thoughts but this time drawing a blank. "If I can't look into your head, then you can't see into mine."

He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. Not wanting to argue the matter any further. She noticed often he would sit on things until they became important or useful, like gathering together pieces of a picture before assembling a theory. It reminded her a lot of his partner in crime, Natasha. '_Perhaps it is the way spies operate,'_ she mused. It was always amusing when they came out with secrets that no-one had a clue how they'd figured out.

Clint stretched stiffly, a barely inaudible grunt escaping him as he did.

"Are you injured?" She hadn't missed it.

Clint stopped mid-stretch, rolling his shoulder under his hand. "Nat challenged me to a 'spar'. She always says its play fighting, then she kicks my ass." Despite his words, he seemed to hold himself a little higher than before. She was tempted to take a peek into his most recent memory to find out the result for herself but quickly reined in that thought. Like she said before there was a strict policy on prying into other people's heads.

Movement in the background drew her attention. She squinted. Just over his shoulder, she could see two figures heading towards a quinjet on the landing strip. She tried desperately to look closer but her shoulders slumped in defeat, they were too far away, merely dots on the grassy field.

Confused, he followed her line of sight. "Its Wilson and Barnes."

Her eyes widened in surprise. She had heard rumours about his incredible eyesight but that was impossible. From that distance it was difficult to recognise them as people, never mind determine who they were. The shock must have been evident on her face.

"Nat told me they were running a recon." He grinned. "Something unrelated." He paused taking another look. "But it's very clear that it's them don't you think? I'd recognise them anywhere, couldn't you."

She huffed taking a sip from her tea. A quick flick of her finger splashed coffee from his mug up into his face so that it dribbled down the bridge of his nose. He cried in protest but she merely shrugged feigning innocence. She was glad to be home.

* * *

It had been a weird day for Bucky. Early this morning, he and Sam had snuck out of the base to work a recon. A small-time mission the likes of which the super soldier wasn't exactly familiar with, he could even argue it was below his skill set but in reality, he didn't want to fight the opportunity to get off the base. With over a week of being confined in the same building, anyone would want to escape. However, it did come with lying to Steve. He was worried that guilt he felt was somewhat minimal but he knew he would be forgiven and his friend would understand. He needed a break.

The target was Oscorp. Sam wanted to look into a missing employee as a favour to someone. That was his story anyway and it was a pretty pointless thing to lie about. Oscorp was a highly regarded biochemical engineering company in high life society. Rather than a global household name it was instead a name known mainly by the rich and powerful who had the money to invest in its endeavours. That's the conclusion they had come to in any case. Bucky's suggestion had been to break into the building and take what they need, making sure they finish within the police response time. However, Sam had a different plan.

The great glass skyscraper loomed over him as he stood on the sidewalk. He felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment. He found things like this tedious.

Bucky tugged at his tie. He was in a sleek coal grey suit with a fresh white shirt and a thin black tie. He clutched in his hand a fancy leather suitcase that he was 88% sure was Tony Stark's but Sam neglected to tell him.

He sighed rubbing a hand through his greased back hair, grunting lightly as his hand came away sticky. He wiped it irritability down the side of his trousers. It only took Widow an hour to hack the visitors' website and get Bucky a pass with a new name (Richard Picard) and a tour guide available to show round the new perspective investor.

They created websites and Wikipedia pages, even a fake news report to showcase the rise of a new rich kid who inherited a lot of money and has no clue what to do with it. If they did a background check, and they were sure they would, then they would see no problem in the visit. Then all Bucky had to do was lose his tour guide. Easy.

It would have been easy if his tour guide wasn't such a blabbermouth. 'George from personal relations' had been talking for 27 minutes without interruption and with regular cheery eye contact. Bucky bit down on the end of his tongue for the third time that morning as George merrily bounced down the corridor into another large foyer. He gestured widely to the space, his blindingly red bowtie burning into Bucky's retinas.

"That's why an investment in Oscorp is an investment in the future! We have so many outreach programmes to local schools offering a variety of internships and work experience to lots of eager youngsters. Hey here's a group now! How's it going, Debbie?"

Debbie swished her auburn curly locks in their direction, her thick block glasses slipping down her nose as she did. She hastily pushed them back. "Hey, George!" She called, her cheeks raising a shade of pink. Her knuckles whitened around the black folder she clutched close to her chest.

A small chuckle escaped George. His ginger curls flopping to the side of his face as he continued to watch her herd a tour group.

Bucky was impressed. It was the first time he seemed to stop talking. "Hey," he tapped him lightly on his checkered blazer, "you should ask her out."

He snorted. "Me?" He coughed abruptly. "Sorry," he straightened himself, "we should continue with the tour."

Bucky grabbed him by the upper arm before he could bounce away. "But now's your chance!" His stomach squeezed in frustration, he was skilled in countless forms of infiltration, persuasion and negotiation and he was using it for this. He forced his tone to be calm. "See she keeps looking over, she likes you… _really_ likes you." He turned him by the shoulders so he was facing him. "It's obvious."

His eyes widened. "You think so?" He turned his head and their eyes met. He blushed and turned away. "I really like her."

Bucky slapped him on the shoulder (harder than was probably necessary) and swivelled him back to face her. "Don't tell me that." He gave him a gentle nudge in her direction. He walked, hesitant at first, then taking heavy strides that were too wide for his leg span, causing his head to bob furiously as he walked.

Bucky peeled his eyes away. He found himself weirdly curious as to the outcome.

Slipping away back the way he came he took purposeful strides back down the corridor, no one questioned his intentions. A middle-aged woman with a tightly wound bun was trotting down the corridor in her bland black heels. He caught her eye as she passed, he gave her a pleasant nod but didn't allow any expression to dominate his face. It was a tactic that meant he was barely memorable. After he turned a few more hallways he passed a door just as a smartly dress man in his late twenties came floundering out of a door carrying a scruffy piece of paper. His nose scrunched at the sight of Bucky, clearly not familiar with his face.

Bucky stopped dead in front of him, his nose upturned. He pointed to the paper with an air of frustrated inconvenience. "Make mine a flat white. I'll be in the visitors' lounge." He continued without so much as a second glance. He could just about hear him scrambling for a pen as he turned another corner. If he remembered him it was inconsequential. An intern was the last person to kick up a fuss or an inquiry over a missing coffee reciprocate.

The visitors' lounge had been one of the first stops on his tour with George. It was a glorified hotel but without the rooms. It had a fine dining area where some far travelling guests where having gourmet breakfasts with a sweeping view of the New York skyline. In another part was a lounge with hoards of company books and reports published by the scientists in which a handful of old men where leisurely smoking cigars and sipping coffees (though he also noticed there were whiskey glasses probably for later in the evening). It had been the first indication that their hunch about the business was right.

Even as he progressed through the offices he could see that many people he passed (who were of any position higher than a coffee runner) were regarding him with welcoming smiles or solid nods, meaning that they were used to highly influential investors walking around. That was a part he could play. He was trained to adapt to any role and here… he was in his element. He weaved through the offices, turning corner after corner until he came across what he was looking for.

A great glass window looked out onto the city. With a glance to ensure he wasn't being watched he pulled out the pen he had in his pocket it and ran it along each edge of the window, before replacing it. He walked away consulting a small map displayed on his watch before inserting his comms into his ear. "South-East corner, 32nd floor."

Bucky was impressed, the addition of all the technology was necessary if they left no trace (according to Sam) but he hadn't expected things to go so smoothly. He had been trained as a soldier to trust only his own abilities and instincts, it was foreign territory to trust technology, especially based on someone else's reasoning.

As the Winter soldier, he never worked with a team or any kind of backup. The only points to consider were himself and the job and it made life so much easier. To be working with all these people with differing plans, views and even styles of infiltration. It was so much to factor in. He realised that it was a lot harder to adapt to a situation when there were other people to consider so for the moment he was enjoying running the mission solo. That was until he turned a corner and ran headfirst into a teenager.

The kid reeled back. His face inflating like a balloon. "Bucky?!" He cried in surprise.

Bucky stared. His brows knitting together. He had no time to react as the kid threw his weight on him sending them careening through a door into a storeroom. The physical action jolted his brain back and he threw the small frame against the wall, his arm across the top of his chest pinning him and restricting his breathing.

"Who-" he began but the kid shushed him.

In the silence, they heard shuffling outside the door as someone walked down the corridor. A mumbled static of a security guard's comm system could just be heard by his advanced hearing.

They remained there, barely moving until the shuffles went beyond earshot.

"Phew, that was close!" The kid exclaimed, his voice gruff from the weight still pressed against his chest.

Bucky dropped him immediately, his mind catching up with events. He took the time to look over the kid properly for the first time. He wore a smart shirt checked with pastel colours, his collar unevenly tucked down and slightly askew. He had a bright name tag that said 'Hi my name is…' on which someone had neatly blocked out the words ' PETER PARKER'.

The kid huffed as he gulped in air, he seemed to be suppressing it as if to act tough. "I think that guy was looking for me, sorry." He winced sheepishly.

Bucky smirked. He recognised the voice. "So you're that Spider-kid." He almost laughed at the ludicrousy of it.

"Man!" He whined unable to stop himself. "Spider-Man."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He couldn't be more than 16. He looked over him once more as if in a new light. He was a lot shorter than he remembered, lankier also but his muscles were just about visible in the shape of his clothes. He regarded his name badge, seems as though he had a similar idea to them. "How did you get away from the tour group?"

Peter opened his mouth to protest, clearly expecting a different direction from the conversation. "Some guy asked out the tour guide."

"How did he do?"

He cringed. "Absolutely butchered it."

"Oh, George."

Peter laughed as quietly as he could manage. The giddy excitement was beginning to hit him, he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. Bucky suppressed a smile, for some reason this scrawny little kid reminded him of Steve when they were younger.

Steve always struggled to be rebellious in school, always either too worried about upsetting people (ie. Bucky getting into trouble) or being so excitable that they were spotted a mile off before they even did anything. Even now Steve needed his childhood friend to bring out his mischievous side and it was rare that he felt up to the task. The horrors that he'd seen were enough to dampen anyone's sense of humour and yet he felt it returning; each passing day new things began to amuse him where they hadn't before. The only stint in his progress was the looming threat of someone gaining complete control over him, causing him to do things he could never come back from.

He looked back to the kid now. He had none of these horrors seeded in his eyes. Only the shining glint of trust and naivety that came with being young. How he envied it. He hated the knowledge that one day he might look at the same person but without that purity that had come before he entered this walk of life.

"How did you get your powers?" He wondered how he could have been dragged in. A sudden curiosity as to whether he had signed up with this or simply been saddled with it. A burden to hold.

Peter seemed shocked at the question and Bucky reflected on his art at conversation. It was clear that he was unpracticed. The kid hesitated before he spoke as if checking the question again in his head before he answered. "Bitten by a radioactive spider on a field trip."

Bucky huffed a laugh. "You're joking."

"Nope." He almost looked smug in the knowledge that his origin was far from cliche. "That's why you _never_ stray from a tour group."

Now Bucky felt the real urge to laugh. "Didn't we both just do that?"

Peter hesitated. "That doesn't count!"

He chuckled "Why not?" The kid was flustered, and Bucky couldn't help but tease.

"Reasons," Peter admitted defeat trying to suppress his snickers and Bucky was shocked to find he had to make a conscious effort not to join him. "Anyway, how did you know it was me? I mean Spiderman was me?" He stuttered. "You know what I mean!"

"It was only a hunch really, you confirmed it yourself. Also, you should probably disguise your voice in the future." He smirked, but taking in the disappointment on the kids face he tried to bring it back. "I'm trained in this though, not many people could figure it out."

His expression lightened at this. He opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off when the storeroom door swung open. The two heads snapped in that direction.

"I can hear you from the corridor, what the hell is going on." It was Sam.

"Bumped into Spiderman." Bucky deadpanned gesturing in Peter's direction.

"Dude not cool!" He cried.

Sam pulled a face. "You have got to be kidding me." He looked the boy up and down and then nodded slowly. "This explains so much."

Peter pouted.

"So much."

"Please don't tell anyone else who I am!" He looked between them, desperately adding, "and please don't tell Mr Stark I'm here!"

"Why _are_ you here?" Bucky almost felt sorry for the kid, he wasn't expecting to be ambushed by Avengers while he was doing a small recon.

"Oscorp is the dodgiest company around, if anyone knows about this new organisation thing Mr Stark is talking about then it's these guys." He paused his features lighting up. "Is that why you're here? Am I right?"

In truth, Sam had never considered a link. He knew that word on the street was that the company was into some bad things, maybe dissecting superhumans was one of them. "No." He couldn't help but burst his bubble. "We're just here to look into a missing employee."

His shoulders slumped. "Well I've just come from the labs there's nothing much there." He rubbed the back of his head absently. "I was gonna head into the control room, see if they have anything on the computer systems worth noting."

"That's where we were headed." Bucky ignored Sams sigh of protest. He pointed to where they were in the corridor, picturing it in his head. "Weren't you going the wrong way?"

Peter shook his head. He grabbed his phone from his pocket. The screen splintered across what looked like a floor plan of the building, in which a room was outlined red. "I pulled it from the server in the labs."

Sam came closer. "That's different from ours." He had pulled up his holo map from the small screen on his wrist, leaning closer still to try and compare the two.

Bucky couldn't help but feel smug. Hacking into a system as sophisticated as Oscorp to find a detailed floor plan was very unlikely; when Romanoff had stumbled upon it they both had a gut feeling it was too good to be true despite Sam's reassurances. "The control room on our map is the security room on his."

"Son of a-" Sam slapped is holo floor plan away. "It was a trap." He turned towards the smug teen. "You got lucky."

Bucky looked between the two. "Well as we are going to the same place we might as well team up."

A muffled squeak came from Peter. He flushed red immediately after. "Sorry. This is exciting."

Sam sighed as heavily as he could manage, an exasperated look filled his features as his eyes pleaded with Bucky. When the super-soldier showed no hope of budging he turned and left, checking quickly that the coast was clear before darting out into the corridor, the map on Peter's phone guiding the way. He didn't bother to check they were behind him, he could practically hear the kid jumping around.

With the new map, they came to the control room within a matter of minutes. It wasn't particularly advanced or well guarded. It was in the public sector after all.

Bucky saw the teen's shoulders slump slightly. They had always known this was a small recon for information so invaluable it was practically public. The kid seemed to have other ideas, his excitement was evaporating but he still forced a smile. He was mildly surprised to see Sam's expression softened.

"Well kid, you good with computers?"

He nodded furiously. "Yes! I'm always fixing up old models and-"

"You come with me then," he snapped, trying to keep his voice light, "Barnes, keep watch." As Peter skipped into the room he shot Bucky an exaggerated eye roll and the Soldier couldn't help but smile.

By the time Sam entered the kid was already at the computer. "So what are we doing? Are we hacking it? My friend is great at hacking stuff! He's been teaching me-"

"Actually," he stepped in before the ramble could continue any further, "we have a device that automatically decodes a firewall." Sam was hoping that would calm him down but he was very wrong.

"No way! That's so cool! Can I see it?" He was practically bouncing on the chair, sat right on the edge of his seat as he tried to peer at the device Sam pulled from his pocket.

It looked like a small USB stick and once again Peter's face fell, that was until he noticed the Avengers logo engraved into the surface. His face expanded like a balloon; Sam bit back a laugh at the comical sight.

"Is that Avengers merch?" He snatched it off him, "merchandise I mean."

"Yeh, I know what merch is." As the kid twirled the small plastic block between his fingers with an awed expression he couldn't help but feel that little bit of warmth inside. He cringed at the cliche. "There are all kinds of things with the logo on not just the building. Stark designs them; I think he gets bored."

At the mention of Stark, he almost flinched. It was odd to see the other side of what had been such a secret for so long. Many people had theories about the mysterious Spider-Man that popped up in a suit that was obviously Stark technology. Clint thought Tony Stark was training him separately for solo missions. Someone else thought Spider-Man wasn't skilled enough so Tony kept him locked away and Nat even suggested that he was an illegitimate son. From what little he know knew it was plain that the first two theories weren't true.

"Don't your parents mind you doing all this web-shooting stuff?"

He recoiled at the question, the USB now passing through his fingers rhythmically as he answered. "Actually, um, my parents died when I was young." He swallowed. "But I live with my Aunt, she's great! She tells me off about it all the time." He laughed weakly. "She was so mad when she found out." His face tightened in fear at the memory.

Sam hummed. "Yeh, I bet." He snatched the device out of his hands. "You're far too young to be doing this." The harshness to his tone surprised even himself. He drove it into the USB socket and pointed up toward the computer deliberately avoiding his eye. "Now go see if anything is interesting."

With the systems now unlocked, he heard Peter scrolling and clicking as he activated the download with his smartwatch. When he was satisfied that the percentage level was slowly grinding up and everything was working, he grabbed a chair and joined Peter at the desk as he examined what appeared to be a shippings log of all exports and imports. He was about to ask to see personal files but suddenly he recognised something.

"Wait wait go back." Sam kept his finger hovering above the data table waiting for the image to catch his attention once more.

Peter scrolled cautiously back up, watching Sam out the corner of his eye.

"Stop!" His finger jabbed a small icon that appeared near a file. "This symbol was inscribed on the bullets we found in Canada when they were ambushed."

"When who was ambushed?" Peter cried his excitement flooding once again.

"Steve and Barnes." He replied absently as he searched the log number into the finder's box bringing up all the information related to the organisation. "They export goods to them." He thought aloud tracing the lines of data.

"So they are linked!" Peter cried, his voice straining as he tried to stay quiet. "You're talking about that Hydra-ish group right?"

"Well, it's definitely a leed." He grumbled.

"So I was right!"

"Lucky." He mumbled begrudgingly. Frustration niggled at his stomach, a lot stronger than he expected. "Doesn't make you any less annoying. Now let's copy these files and get out of here. It's gonna be a lot better for us if we don't get seen."

"Hey!" A cry came from outside the window. They both froze. Their eyes jumping to the security guard just outside the door.

"Hey, can you help me I'm a bit lost." Bucky looked as innocent as possible and the security guard's expression slipped momentarily. He took the advantage. "I'm supposed to be on a tour but my tour guide wandered off without me." His tone was harsh and impatient. "I'm supposed to be a potential investor." He flashed his visitors pass.

Peter and Sam had remained as still as possible, shuffling inches at a time to obscure them from the view of the large windows surrounding the office.

"You shouldn't be in this section it's restricted." He sighed, his posture slumped and not holding the authority it had only moments ago. "The intern lab tour is about to start in the main lobby so there should be a member of staff there that can help you." He gave him a small list of directions, indicating lazily with his hand.

"Thank you." It was curt and lacked the compassion of a true apology but the security guard didn't bat an eyelid. In a place like Oscorp, he was used to it. "I'd appreciate if escort me back to prevent me walking aimlessly around the building again."

"I can't leave my post," he smiled grimly, "sir." He looked over into the neighbouring office. Sam and Peter were now fully covered by the desk but the memory stick was still visible from the monitor. They couldn't remove it yet it wasn't ready. The guard paused. "I'll call one of my colleagues to escort you back." Unimpressed, he reached for the walkie talkie.

"Forget it! I'll find my own way." It was better that fewer people came to the corridor, it meant more chance they were seen. He stormed off, stomping around the corner, his hair flopping out of its stiff greased back form.

They heard the guard pick up his walkie talkie. "We had a rich brat lost in the restricted section." He paused, the faint crackle of a reply barely audible. "No, in the office area, sir." Another pause. "I'll do a sweep." He walked on further down the corridor.

Sam released a breath, they were in the clear for now but the security guard wasn't going far and until the files finished downloading… he turned to Peter and who waved the memory stick triumphantly, his face wide with glee. Sam nodded curtly. It was time to move.

He peered out of the great window that faced the corridor but another security guard had now joined the first.

"Fantastic," Sam mumbled beneath his breath. He cursed at his own idea but it was the safest way to get away unseen. He pulled a pen out of his jacket, it was identical to the one Bucky had used earlier to let him into the building earlier. He nodded towards the window that leads to the street. "Got your webs?" His face contorted at the thought.

Peter smirked. "Be prepared to hold on tight."

Sam's face soured.

* * *

**AN: Right, so there it is I hope you liked it and I shall update as soon as I can. The next few chapters should get juicy and soon there will be more characters popping for a bit of story action! So favourite, follow, review whatever you feel like really and I shall post shortly.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing :(**

* * *

"Tony." Someone was shaking him lightly. Tugging at the edge of his sleep-filled mind, filling him with an annoying and persistent urge to wake up.

He groaned, dragging his heavy head of the desk. It took his foggy brain a few seconds to register the voice that woke him. "Capsicale?" His words were slow as he tried to shake the sleep from his head. "What's on fire?"

Tony could practically feel his lopsided smile from behind him. "Nothing yet."

"Then why are you disturbing my beauty sleep, not that I need it." He added throwing Steve a winning smile that was normally seen plastered onto the news or a magazine rather than in an empty lab in a fortified base in the middle of nowhere.

The Captain hesitated. "Don't you think you should get some proper sleep, Tony." Tony saw his eyes glance fleetingly at the whiskey tumbler on the desk.

The billionaire rubbed a hand over his face. He pressed especially hard on the side he had slept on, it was almost numb from the weight. It was rare he slept heavily, only when he really needed it. He checked the time on the computer, he'd only been out four hours at least. It felt like four hours of waste. He swallowed the annoyance. "Ah, mothering Rogers has returned to put me to bed, huh?" He grinned reaching out his arms like a toddler. "Only if you carry me."

Tony was surprised when he chuckled lightly, the concern not quite leaving his expression but at least it was a start. "I will carry you... if you promise to get some sleep."

He snorted a laugh as he contemplated this. For some reason, his mind jumped to a mental image of Steve running along with him sitting in a chariot. Now that was an idea he could get behind, not least so that he could get Rogers wearing a toga. On second thought that changed his mind. Steve would look too good in a toga and the joke would fall in place of him actually pulling off the look.

"What were you doing so late anyway?" Rogers felt the need to fill the silence.

He looked up at the crystally, sparkly eyes of the concerned Captain. "Just trying to get this finished." He grabbed a strangely wound piece of metal from the floor and whacked it sloppily onto the table. "Don't think it's going to work." He sighed.

"What is it?"

"A vacuum coaxial layer I'm trying to install around the suits systems." His flat tone emulated his lack of excitement at the project. "Back in the evil hideout they used a very powerful electrical pulse to short out the systems, it fried part of the suit before FRIDAY managed to isolate it." He used the piping to prod an ironman gauntlet that lay dissected at the side. "Just trying to stop it happening again so that next time we can get a good look at their files."

"Sounds difficult." Cap also took a moment to prod the gauntlet.

"Eh." The noise was non-committal. "Tedious more like." He stretched, swiping his tumbler from the table and swaggered out of the lab with his only goal to make it to the kitchen. He was in dire need of some coffee and if he didn't get some soon he might have to take Mother Rogers up on his offer. "Where is everyone anyway? Wanda here?"

"She arrived a few hours ago." Cap followed him out to the lift. "She cleared away some of the mess in the kitchen as well."

The mischievous curl to his words filled in the gaps. "So I need to buy new plates then?" He enjoyed the tiny indications of surprise on the soldier's face as he validated his question with a nod. "I'll send the love birds out to choose them, for some reason Vis loves crockery."

Rogers pressed the button in the lift. It amused Tony that he didn't even tell him he was going to the kitchen and yet he pressed the right floor. "I've not seen Vision yet."

Tony furrowed his brow as he looked at the Captain but it wasn't due to a lack of super bot. He gave him a fun little fact about their latest team member, something that was designed as an opening into a witty anecdote about Vision flying all the way to China when the billionaire asked him to grab some china. Something that had amused Tony greatly at the time and he was sure was also an excuse for another spontaneous trip for him and the Scarlet Witch. Yet Steve didn't bite. He was preoccupied with something. His answers were short and to the point as if he was barely paying attention. He was fairly sure he was holding something back.

The next words left his mouth before he could stop them. "How about our resident terminator?" He shot Steve a sideways glance as he polished off the small mouthful of whiskey left in the glass. He immediately regretted it. His stomach protested at the harsh golden liquid.

"That's what I came to talk to you about." He looked straight ahead, unflinching. "Bucky is off base."

"What?" His whiskey nearly came back.

Steve continued to stare at his patch of the lift, not making eye contact. "They went to infiltrate and gather intel on a company as a favour to one of Sam's relatives. It's completely unrelated."

Stark spun in front of him, forcing him to look. "Did you know about this?" He snarled.

He kept his face straight, for some reason the way he kept it bottled up, always seeming in control, it irritated Tony. Tony Stark who was impulsive and made bad decisions in the heat of the moment causing more problems before he can fix them. How could he compete with the perfect Captain America who could punch Hitler in the face and was such a stand-up guy no one could ever say a bad word. He felt the sudden urge to punch _him _in the face.

"Only by the time, it was too late. I asked Nat where they were and she just told me." Steve kept his voice as level as he could but Tony could see the strain that it took. "That's why I came to find you."

Tony loathed his lack of fight. He wanted to smash his false facąde, push the issue until he was justified. "Well, I should have known sooner."

"I know I'm sorry."

His stomach burned. "You said it yourself, Rogers. He is not safe." Tony tried desperately to catch his thoughts as they whirled into a mesh of anger and fear.

Steve's face scrunched at his words. His jaw pulling taught as he swallowed back his retort. He clenched his teeth. "That and we still don't know if it's safe to be in the open."

His words of worry did nothing to quell the fire building in Tony's veins. Steve's reasons for coming wasn't for an argument or an apology, despite the fact he specifically forbid Bucky to take part in any kind of missions or trips away from the base. He came to Tony to be comforted against the thought of something happening to his best buddy. That infuriated him. The worried looks from earlier they weren't made for him, only for his psycho assassin pal from childhood. "Well if they attack maybe we can get more info on the bastards." He tried to bite back the words but he couldn't stop them. He didn't want to stop them. "That's the best of the two scenarios."

The lift pinged open and Steve removed himself immediately. Where he had been stood the metal bar of the lift had been bent and warped beyond repair under his hand. All that was violence locked away just under the surface.

He stormed after the super-soldier. His head was throbbing from what was likely a combination of last night's whiskey and the lack of sleep. He squinted his eyes in an effort to shove the pain of his throbbing head into his voice. "Hey! You can't keep him here if you can't control him. That was the deal! If he keeps running amok then he's gonna have to go back in a cell."

"He is not an animal." Fury dripped from his words. Steve's broad figure loomed over him, the power and deadly precision in his stance did nothing to deter him.

"Well, you could have fooled me!" Tony bared his shoulders, his posture rigid.

The fire and heat between them blinded them to the shadow that rose through the floor shrouded in a thin layer of golden light.

"This is unnecessary." Beside them Vision stood in a navy woollen jumper, the ends of a white shirt just poking above the collar. His calming voice did nothing to ease the tension and after a moment's hesitation, he advanced towards them, raising his hand to separate them.

Tony huffed and pulled away from the staring contest before he had a chance to reach them. "Great to have you back, Vis." His snarling tone felt no impact against the super bot.

Vision's stepped further towards them still, positioning himself between the raging men. He looked to both of them before he spoke, though neither met his eye or acknowledged his presence. "Before this escalates any further, may I suggest you question Buckanent Barnes and Sam Wilson on the results of their excursion."

The billionaire gave a derogatory snort to this suggestion, still seething as he attempted to skirt the Captain's eye contact.

Vision knew Stark well enough that to try and calm him down was a lost cause. Tony's hot head was one that was persistent and couldn't be challenged directly but rather nudged in the right direction at a later date. A tedious process that spanned a greater time frame. Steve, however, often was able to listen to reason so instead, he rested a calming hand on his tense shoulders. The contact was almost like deflating a balloon, immediately his features began to soften and his clenched fist loosened to fall back against his sides. He took a couple of deep breaths before turning back to Tony but just as he opened his mouth he spoke.

"They're back." He nodded to the window where a quinjet had just swooped in from the sky, now hovering above the landing pad. Without another word, he strode back towards the lift.

Steve lunged after him but Vision held him back. "If you continue to involve yourself things won't end well."

He hesitated, his brow creasing at the thought, but only for the briefest of seconds before his resolve won over. They both exchanged a glance before he pulled away, taking a light jog towards the stairwell that led to the landing site.

Vision watched him leave, his head wilting to the side. He considered following them but quickly decided against. Their quarrel was no more his battle than it was Rogers', it would be futile if he couldn't even keep true to his own words. An arm grazed against him, lightly pulling his attention. Wanda rested her head on his shoulder, she could feel her chest moving with each breath, her warmth radiating through his metallic skin.

"Let's go." She cooed.

He rested his head on hers. "It's not safe."

She jerked suddenly to look up at him. She could sense his sorrow and it stretched beyond the petty fight of their teammates. "What happened?"

He hesitated, unsure of what to say. "I think I know who is behind this but I cannot be sure." He cupped her head in his hand, stroking the base of her neck with his thumb. "If it is who I have just faced then we are only safe when we stay together."

She could feel his reluctance. He didn't want to say anything else and she wasn't going to force him. If he needed to tell them what happened then he would. She knew he was one to ensure that the worry was necessary before he opened it out to his teammates. So, for now, it was a burden he bore on his own shoulders. She leaned into him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her in his embrace. "I've missed you." She whispered.

Downstairs Tony was stood rigidly in front of the door as they emerged from the quinjet. "Nice trip?" His arms were folded so tightly that his fingers were almost clawing at his arm to keep them crossed. His eyes locked on Bucky's, a quiet rage bubbling beneath the surface.

Steve stood a few steps behind. Bucky winced. He was also pissed.

Sam held out his hand. "Before you kick off-" Tony snorted, "we have a lead."

Tony dropped his expression immediately. They exchanged almost a silent conversation, Sam's firm nod confirmed his hopes and his boyish smirk suggested it was a big one. "Tell me everything."

Within moments they were sat in an office. Sam pulled the USB stick from his pocket and gave it to Tony, he wasted no time, ramming it into the awaiting port on the desk. A long list of hundreds of listings projected onto the opposite wall, all the different shipments and deliveries that had passed recently, organised by date and then by reference code. Tony saw it immediately. He fumbled up to the projection placing a hand against the logo. "That's the symbol they had on their uniform!" He laughed, a short burst of noise that forced its way out of his lungs. "Where-"

"Oscorp," Sam interjected. "We were looking into a missing person case, a friend of a friend; we didn't expect to find this." He paused thinking back to the mix up with the maps. "It was so in the open, could be a false lead."

"It's only obvious if you know what you're looking for." Stark beamed. He sat at the control panel, bringing out all the data he could in association with the image. "And your missing person?"

"Not much point looking for them anymore." Sam grimace. His voice hard and shoulders squared. His demeanour screamed military.

"Ouch." Tony pulled a face, it wasn't his style to play the comforting shoulder and he doubted Sam needed it anyway. Instead, he had bigger fish to fry. If he wanted a pep talk the billionaire assumed Cap would give him one later.

He scanned the data hurriedly barely blinking as the lines scrolled on. He was beginning to find a pattern. There wasn't much but it was something. Something they could act on. "All the shippings they do to and from the 'Hydra wannabes' take place in the same building." He brought up the date and chuckled in disbelief. "They make a shipment to them once a month under this specific reference code."

"We could tag the cargo." Sam followed Stark's thoughts.

"We can do more than that." He ripped the USB from the port, giddy with the possibilities. "We have four days until the shipment, it'll be a push to find the building but we could pull it off." From the corner of his eye, he saw Bucky. He stood motionless in the corner of the room, his expression blank. "You haven't said much."

Steve's muscles tensed, his shoulders squared and his jaw tightened. Tony wasn't the only to notice.

"I'm sorry for not getting your authorisation to leave the compound, I know it goes against our agreement and it won't happen again."

Stark recoiled at the apology. He hadn't expected it, and he hadn't expected it in such a formal and straightforward way. There was no room for misinterpretation, no room for argument or further pursuit. He nodded, turning away. All the anger melted away left only with embarrassment and a deep pit of guilt pooling in his stomach. He swallowed heavily.

Steve broke the silence. "The analysis room on the third floor is more advanced, it'll be easier to look into the target and the security. Right, Tony?"

"Yep." He was grateful for the distraction. "We should get started." He took off out the room at top speed, the USB in his iron grip.

Sam exchanged a passing look of amusement with the Captain before following the deflated Tony Stark over to the computer lab. He gave a glance behind him to confirm his instincts and with a satisfied grin, he saw neither of them following after.

When Bucky gave a nod to say they had left and were out of earshot Steve felt a release of tension. He raised an eyebrow, his face struggling to stay stern. "So you went off base huh?"

He shrugged. "Just wanted to stretch my legs."

He chuckled, "Y'know, there's is a great running track around the compound if your knees are getting stiff."

"Pffft," Bucky smirked, making jokes about their age was becoming commonplace. Not that Bucky minded much, it was too weird to ignore. To have lived so long and still be so young was an incredible feat and deserved to be mocked. Besides the light-hearted air tended to take away some sting of his Hydra influenced past. Sometimes he thought maybe that's why Steve made the jokes. His smile saddened. "I'm sorry for not telling you I was leaving."

He sighed. "I understand why you did it. The compound can make you stir crazy, believe me, I know," he paused a moment, looking over Bucky's expression, "and I understand why you didn't tell me. Tony is already convinced the world is against him. Any other evidence to support that is fuel to the fire."

Bucky nodded in agreement but said nothing more. He was distant, clearly thinking about something else.

"What's eating you, Buck?" The list of possible answers was endless.

He looked over to the corridor where the others had gone, almost as if he expected people to be hovering there listening. He waited until he was sure they were out of earshot before he turned back to Steve, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Probably nothing."

"Then you might as well say."

"Spiderman was there," Bucky chose his words carefully, "he was looking around the labs then he joined with us when we copying the files."

"Oh yeah?" Steve raised an eyebrow. "In the mask?"

"Without."

Steve was intrigued. He saw something in his expression he couldn't quite place. Something he remembered from when they were younger. "What's he like?"

He grinned. "Like you."

"Really?" From Bucky that could be a compliment or an insult or anywhere on the spectrum in between.

Bucky tried to smooth his grin. "Yeh, he's reckless, righteous and far too excitable."

Steve chuckled. "He's a Queens kid you know."

"Yeh?" A sheen of nostalgia gleamed in his eyes. "I guess he's just missing that Brooklyn flair then." He paused. "He's young." It was harsher than his other comments.

"So were we." To this Bucky seemed to disagree and Steve found himself stuck in an argument almost a century in the past.

Bucky never believed you were too young to join the fight. It came down to whether your country needed you and you were competent enough to decide for yourself. To Steve, the thought of anyone younger than eighteen seeing things that give grown people nightmares; it was unthinkable. If Bucky was saying he was young then...

Wanting to cut this train of thought Bucky spoke. "He asked us not to tell Stark. We decided to honour it."

"Then it's a good job I'm not Stark," Steve smirked. There was a small twist in his stomach, keeping a secret from Tony wasn't the best idea at the moment, they were trying to build trust and Tony fell very hard for these kinds of things. Especially involving his pet project. "Do you think it's important?"

"No, but someone should know in case it becomes relevant."

He sighed. "Your leaving."

"It's better for now." He smirked. "At least until things heat up. Shuri wants to try something new, she called me early this morning. _Very_ early this morning. 4 am, You know how I hate mornings. She's lucky I was awake anyway. Besides all these people are making me jittery." He smiled halfheartedly.

Something tugged at Steve's chest. He returned the lazy smile and grabbed him into a hug. He could tell he was hurting. He could always tell when he was hurting and lately it didn't seem to stop. He held him tightly and was grateful that he returned the stronghold. When they parted they kept a strong hand on each other's shoulder."Want me to come with you?"

"You're needed here." They both knew it. "Besides, I can't seem to shake that bird guy." He rolled his eyes. "He's a pain in the ass."

"At least someone's got your back."

"Someone always has my back." They held a solid look for a brief moment. These were the times that their friendship was strongest, not in times of high combat, fighting for their lives against the next big threat. It was the times they could share the pain and not let it corrupt their hope but instead, make them stronger.

Bucky slapped him on the back. "You need to go."

Steve nodded. "See you soon Buck."

* * *

Across the world, the city of Wakanda always thrived with life. This was even more so now that they had opened their doors to the world. Foreign diplomats and top scientists all wanted to see the phenomenon that was the lost city of 'el dorado' as many had dubbed it. The meant that T'Challa spent most of his days shaking hands, being diplomatic and sitting at feasts making the most tedious of small talk. It was all getting a bit much. He wasn't the only one getting restless.

Shuri stormed out onto the balcony to her Brother's room, he was adorned in his standard black robes and scruffy beige sandals, an outfit he struggled to wear in his now man official greetings. He was making the most of it.

"Brother!" She called as the door swung open to her approach. His shoulders slumped at the sound of her voice. She had been complaining a lot to him recently, not that it was uncalled for. "Another scientist debriefing?" She cried standing between him and his morning view. "I have important work to do, I cannot spend another day in a room of people who think they're smarter than me! It is unnecessarily time-consuming, if they are so smart they should figure it out themselves instead of getting a _little girl _to show them."

He chuckled lightly, people underestimating her was all too common. Though after meeting her many people sang her praises when they spoke of her, despite her 'unconventional' mannerisms. "I thought you enjoyed showing off, has it lost its glamour?"

"After around the fifth time." She huffed. "I am sick of their patronising words. I have more important things to do. Unfortunately, I have also been preoccupied with Everett Ross who required answers on his recovery and piloting so I've barely been inside the lab and now this. Our White Wolf returned last night for further study."

"Yes, I spoke with him this morning. He has accepted you are busy and will wait until you have the time." He held up a hand to stop her angry splutters. "These people need to be taught on the medical equipment we plan to export and they must know how to use it." He turned to her properly, meeting her flaming eyes. "You agree how important this project is?"

"Yes but-"

"Then it is something that requires attention." It was true. The project was barely beginning and it would take a lot of work and dedication.

The plan was to send out some vibranium medical equipment to the largest hospitals that have the divisions capable of using them. This meant many capital cities around Europe, Asia, Australia and the Americas but frustratingly not many in Africa. Nakia was working hard to change this but for now, prospects were bleak. The united nations wished to ship them out to countries that could cope with new technologies (though they worded this much more diplomatically in the agreements) and many countries became overlooked and neglected. It was all he could do to stop Nakia from smuggling them out of the city which would be a breach of the agreement. How he hated politics.

Shuri sighed deeply. "If another white man calls me _young lady_, I am giving no more of my time to them." She pouted, pointing a stern finger towards him.

He nodded. "I will make sure they are warned."

She turned to leave but he had an urge to keep her beside him. It wasn't often that things were so quiet; not often that they had time to pause and enjoy each others company. "Won't you join me."

She hesitated but quickly returned to his side looking out onto the city as he did. It truly was a beautiful city. Tall cities glimmered in the morning sun with shiny metallic spirals snaking their way up and around the structures holding high-speed trams. Patrol jets returning from their morning circuits weaved seamlessly around the city skyline, swooping into land by the city.

Shuri smirked. "We aren't going to have a discussion about 'everything the light touches' are we?"

T'Challa glanced at her from the side of her eyes with an unamused look. This seemed only to expand her grin further. She had worked so hard to keep up with the never-ending politics even though it was far from her expertise. She hated politics and he couldn't blame her.

"You know," he began, he had wanted to mention this for a while, "Tony Stark is eager to meet you. He told me so himself when I explained the origin of many of the gadgets I carry."

She puffed out air, though he could tell it was different from her other complaints. She was genuinely intrigued. "If he visits then maybe I shall talk with him."

He chuckled. "Why are you so hard-headed?"

To this she shrugged, her stiffly woven buns sat erect in her head as if making her stand taller with higher confidence. Not that she needed any bigger ahead. T'Challa often thought it would do her good to be in a room with someone smarter than her. Tony Stark may be the only person to fit this requirement and he could see the promise of a challenge glistening in her eyes.

She turned to face him tilting her head up at him, "I don't know what you mean," she stated innocently, "You are the one telling me that I am invaluable and I cannot leave my political duties. How would I find the time to meet him when I am so preoccupied with foreign diplomats."

"Okay, Okay enough." He waved her away. He knew it was too much to expect her to be courteous when he was forcing her into so many things she hated. The lab was her home and she had been away too long.

There was a pause where all that could be heard was the whirring of the city and wildlife beyond. He could see her shift slightly beside him, her resolve failing as the silence drove on. Evidently, she was rethinking her harsh tone. It had been years since they fought properly and they both knew this was the road they were heading down. It gave him the final push to come to a decision he knew he was bound to reach eventually.

"I will speak with the scientists." He said slowly, still looking out over the city. He could see her spin towards him excitedly. "They can receive a tour of the city and settle into the new environment. Work on the medical equipment will start tomorrow."

"Yes!" She cried. "Thank you, brother!"

He turned to her now, her excitement bringing him more joy than any national agreement could do. "Do not waste your day, Shuri, for it will not be yours again for a while."

This did nothing to dampen her mood. They quickly did their handshake before she ran back in the direction of the patio door. Before she disappeared completely from sight she twirled back towards him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I have a new piece of equipment for you in the lab if you can join me later," she bowed mockingly, "my king."

He waved her away turning back to the horizon. "Go away I am enjoying the view."

"Then I hope I am not disturbing you." T'Challa turned to see Okoye stood beside his sister, she was in full uniform indicating her day of work had already started, which meant the start of his duties was imminent.

"If you want anything I would ask now," Shuri smirked, "he is in a very giving mood this morning." She skirted quickly away leaving the king and his head warrior to talk.

She raised an eyebrow towards him. It said a thousand words.

"I gave her the day off." He answered her unspoken question. Before she could protest he cut in, "I will smooth it over with our guests when they arrive. She deserves it, she is a scientist, not a dancing monkey."

"Hmm," she mused, "some would say you are too generous, my king"

"And I would hope it's only you who thinks these things." She merely shrugged, pulling a face that said neither of the two answers. He thought a moment, looking back out onto the city, the view was losing its pull that it had only minutes ago, now replaced by the need and want of the day's activities. "When we welcomed in the world I did not expect there to be so much paperwork."

She hummed in agreement. "And so many ignorant visitors." To the king's stern look she corrected herself, "Uneducated." When this still didn't please him she rephrased again, "two sandwiches short of a picnic."

To this, he only smirked, "Shuri says the same." He gestured back into the room. "Come, let's visit the rest of the Dora Milaje. I must ask a small team to escort the guests and me on a tour of the city."

She raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"Don't look at me like that. This is why I am going to apologise to them myself when I ask this of them." He passed through his bedroom back and back through to the corridor. "You are meant for such great things and yet…"

"We are no tourist attraction, my king." She said sternly stopping in the centre of the room.

He sighed deeply. "I have already talked to the council. The technology donations to the hospitals are the last project we shall give ourselves too. Nakia has then suggested we focus our efforts on the small towns and villages on the outskirts of Wakanda. They need our help far more than the people demanding it."

To this, she seemed satisfied. Her stern expression once again softened to her neutral (still stern) expression. "Speaking of Nakia," she nodded her head over to a cabinet at the side of the room where a thick golden necklace lay, "that is hers, is it not?"

A grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Come, Okoye." She strode past him as he closed the door behind her. He knew his face gave him away. "You wished to speak with me about something?"

"A visitor has arrived." Her voice always seemed to have an edge to it but for once it softened. It surprised the king. "He comes from a small country in Europe. He wishes to speak with you."

"And you like him?" He already knew the answer.

She responded only with a hum. But it was less certain than he expected. Then again Okoye was always one to be overly cautious, a useful tool as head of the warriors. "W'Kabi is with him in the Border Tribe territory. I told him you would go out to meet him."

"Then I suppose that is what I must do."

The journey wasn't long and in the time it took he had a chance to talk with his head warrior about anything he may have missed in the hours he had been asleep. Nothing of much interest arose, small rebel groups moving along the northern borders; diplomats crossing the borders and conforming their arrival times; a stray elephant passing on the outskirts of the jungle. It was a tedious conversation they had daily but not one that either found unnecessary. By the end of it that had reached the Border tribe. T'Challa could immediately spot the visitor from across the square.

He stood proudly in front of the rhino fences talking animatedly to W'Kabi, his hands held behind his back and shoulders high, a stance which spoke of regal grace and discipline. His body seemed almost two thick for his small square head and his clothes visibly tightened around the curves of his shoulders. Despite his presence T'Challa could see from his face he was young, the glint of excitement played in his eyes as he spotted the king's approach.

"King T'Challa." He bowed deeply. "It is an honour to be able to speak with you."

T'Challa bowed his head in return. "And you have come a long way to do it." He took a moment to try and size up the boy himself. From first impressions, it was hard to tell a man's intentions but from experience, the king always found it useful to follow his instincts."What is it you wished to speak with me about?"

His cheeks flushed slightly at the blunt question. "Ah yes, sorry your highness. I am a scientist in my country, one of the only ones as my country is small and not of the highest standard in terms of technology-"

T'Challa could tell his expression was slipping. He heard many tales from world leaders who came to ask for some of Wakanda's technological advances, so many thought they deserved better.

The man must have caught onto this as he flustered around the topic, suddenly almost embarrassed. "But I have not come to ask for any of Wakanda's technology." He clarified sternly, pride nipping at his tone. "We are making some advances of our own and other diplomats have been saying that there are to be scientific lectures taking place these next few weeks regarding this technology.

"Your highness, I wish only to be granted your permission to sit in these lectures and learn for the benefit of my country so that we can advance what we have in medical equipment for the betterment of my country. I would ask for no lodgings only the opportunity to come and go, with an escort if you require," he smiled sheepishly, "so that I can attend."

T'Challa looked to Okoye. She seemed indifferent on the matter. The man himself seemed genuine and from spending so much time with his sister, it was clear he had the markers of a scientist in his mannerisms. There was no reason not to trust him.

When Wakanda was revealed as having the vibranium and the immense technological advancements that challenge the worlds greatest efforts, it acted almost like a metaphor that any country could rise out of the depths and become great. It was a beacon to many third world countries and beyond. Here was a prime example of a country that was trying to better itself, not by demanding the achievements of others but instead learning from its neighbours.

T'Challa nodded. It was a noble cause that he could get behind. "I will give you lodgings with the other diplomats so you do not have to travel." He paused as he reacted with almost a giddy squeak, "But first I wish to talk with you more about yourself and your country." He gave almost a firm look. "You haven't yet told me your name or the name of your country."

"I truly apologise." He laughed to himself. "My name is Kristoff Vernard and I am from Latveria."

* * *

The room was filled with glass bottles that curved and bobbed in hundreds of different shapes, from triangles to figure eights and every kind in between. Each distorted the surroundings, bending and twisting the light, focusing it into blinding beams and dull patches of colour.

Peter tried to concentrate but it was hard, a sharp tone drilled into his head making his face contorted in pain. The bright blues, greens and yellows in scattered jars dragged his eyes away, pulling his focus faster than he could regain it. He placed a heavy hand on the worktop his weight shifting as he struggled to hold himself upright.

The noise grew and grew, the shrill shriek piercing his every thought. His hands came up to cover his ears and without the extra support, he collapsed to his knees.

He heard the shattering of glass and then… Pain.

He screamed but the sound didn't escape his throat. He was frozen, drowning in the overload of his own mind. Black curled around the edge of his vision, shifting and oozing across the room until-

Peter jumped from the bed, crashing down on the soft burgundy carpet. Sweat crawled down his back, dripping from the edge of his nose where he held himself on his hands and knees as steady as he could manage. His breath forced its way into his lungs and he felt only slight relief when the air escaped in harsh bursts.

His skin burned, it felt like fiery ants crawling under his skin. He flopped back against the bed, the wooden bedpost the only thing propping him upright. His heat radiated around him smothering him in his own sticky humid climate. His sensitive fingers grazed the goosebumps beginning to pimple on his skin. The last time he had been this sick was when he was bitten. May had cooked him soup for an entire week and taken the whole time off work just to sit with him.

He longed for her now as the room was spinning before him. He wished she could make it stop, could pull it back into focus. He wished she was here to gently stroke his hair. He wished it so hard he could almost feel it.

He could feel it.

His eyes fluttered open. He realized he couldn't remember when he had closed them. A soft voice was speaking to him, coaxing him from his restless sleep.

"Peter, you okay?" It was from Scott.

Peter opened his eyes but the bright light forced them shut. "It's cold." His body was feeling it now, each piece of consciousness was bringing him new discomfort and he felt his spine shiver in protest.

"Okay, buddy." The last thing his mind registered was being tucked back into bed before unconsciousness welcomed him again.

* * *

**AN: Right so another chapter is here hope you like it! Bit of a cheeky mini-scene at the end that hints at bigger things to come... I shall continue writing and hopefully post the next chapter at some point. Let me know if you like it! :D**


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